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IIELI^OIAI  JVVENILES  : 
M  I  S  C  E  L  L  A  N  E  O  U  S  J-- 

THOUGHTS 

(^£) 
P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e, 

O    N 

NaturaL   Moral,  and  'Droifie 

SUBJECTS; 

Writcen   chicrly  in  Younger   Years. 

By  r.  WATTS,  D.  D. 

Et  jiuunda  fitnul  iff  idonea  dicere  Vita.      H  o  r. 


LONDON:  {^^[^  [ 

Priiited  for  Richard  Ford  at  thc  J/Jgc!.,  and 
R  I  c  H  A  R  D  H  £  T  T  at  tlic  Bibk  and  Cniun) 
k>th  \i\  tlie  PQuhry,     M  DCC  xxxiv. 


sx 

SQOO 


T  O    T  H  E 
RlGHT    HONOURABLE    thc 

Cotwtejs  of  Hartforde 

BegLeave.MA- 
D  A  M,  to  flattef 
my  Self,  that 
the  fame  Con- 
defcenfion  and 
Goodnefs  which  has  admit- 
ted  feveral  of  thefe  Pieces 
A  2  into 


i V        D  E  D  I  CAT  I O  N. 

into  your  Clofet  in  Manii- 
knpt,  Avill  perniit  them  all 
to  make  this  publickAp- 
pearance  before  You.  Your 
Lady  fliip  s  known  Charac- 
ter  and '  fafte  f or  every  t  hing 
thatisPiousandPolite,  give 
an  honourable  Sandion  to 
thofe  Writings  which  fland 
Recommended  by  Your 
Name  and  Approbation;  'tis 
no  Wonder  then  that  thefe 
E s sAY s  flould fcek the Fa- 
vour  of  fuch  a  Patrcnagc. 

T  H  o'  the  Author  profef- 
fesh*mielf  much  a  Stranger 
to  the  great  and  fplerdid 

Part 


Dedication.       V 

VaTt  of  Mankind,  yet  fmce 
your  Ladyf  bip  was  pleafed  to 
induli<;e  him  a  Sliare  in  the 
Hcnours  of  j^our  Friend- 
iiiip^  he  cannot  but  take 
Plealure  to  have  been  a 
WiLneis  of  thole  Virtues, 
Avfiereby  You  bear  up  the 
Lignity  of  our  holy  Rdi- 
mon  and  the  bleiled  Gof- 
pdy  m'id-1  dl  the  temntinp" 
Grandeurs  of  this  Worla, 
and  in  an  Age  of  growing 
InfideJity.  He  acknowled- 
ges  it  a  Part  of  his  Felicity, 
that  he  has  had  Opportuni- 
ty  to  learn  how  happily  the 
A  3  Lei- 


vi       Dedication. 

Leifure  which  you  borrow 
from  the  Magnificence  and 
Ceremonies  of  a  Court  is 
employ'd  in  devout  Con- 
templationsj  in  the  Study 
of  Virtue,  and  among  the 
Writings  of  the  beft  roets 
in  our  own,  or  in  foreign 
Languages,  fo  far  as  they 
are  challe  and  innocent. 

BuT  'tis  no  eafy  Task, 
as  a  late  ingenious  Pen  ^  has 
exprefs^d  it,  to  fpeak  the 
many  namelefs  Graces  and 
nathe  Riches  of  a  Mind,  ca- 

*    Mr.    T  H  O  M  S  O  N,     /«   /Z?^   D  E  D  I  C  A  T  I  O  N 

of  his  P  o  E  M  on  the  S  p  r  i  n  g. 

pable 


D  E  D  I  CAT I  O  N.       VU 

pable  fo  much  at  once  to  Ye- 
lifh  Solitude  and  adorn  So- 
ciety. 

MAYfuch  a  valuableLife 
be  drawn  out  to  an  uncom- 
mon  Length:,  as  the  richell: 
of  Bleffings  to  your  noble 
Family  !  May  You  fliine 
long  in  your  exalted  Sta- 
tion  an  iUuftrious  Pattern 
of  fuch  Goodnefsj  as  may 
command  a  Reverencc  and 
Imitation  among  thofe  who 
jRand  round  You  in  higher 
or  lower  Life !  And  when 
your  Spirit  fiiall  take  its 
Flight  to  fuperior  Regions 
A  4  and 


Viii     Dedication. 

and  that  blifsful  World, 
whither  your  Mcditation 
and  your  Hope  have  often 
laircd  You,  may  the  Couit 
oiGrcat  Brltain  never  want 
Succeilors  in  your  honour- 
able  Houfe  to  adorn  and 
fupport  it.  In  the  Sinceri- 
ty  of  thefe  Wiflies,  I  take 
i  -iiveto  fLibfcribe  myiel±!, 


M  A  D  A  Ivf , 

Tour  Ladyjljips  mojl  Ohedient, 
Himhle  Sewanty 

I.  Watts. 


T  ri  E 


PREFAC 


<^<7^^^;^^^E'%jyg  g  every  Man  l;as  ibnie  Amur<?- 
nicr.t'.  icr  m\  Hour  nf  l.£;r.u-e, 
I  ]ia\e  clioicn  MatkcnhUiidl  Sd" 
ence,  Pkilofcphy  and  Pcejy,  for 
mine  ;  and  the  Fruits  of  fome 
of  thofe  Hours  have  been  com- 
municated  to  the  VVorld.  I  ac- 
knowledge  my  Obligation  to 
the  prefent  Age,  which  has  given  a  favourable  Accep- 
tance  to  the  Lyrick  Pcems  printed  in  my  Youth,  the 
plam  Rudiments  of  Geography  aud  Ajlrcncmy^  and  the 
Treatife  of  Logick,  publifhed  fome  Years  ago,  and  to 
thofe  fcattered  E[Jbys  of  Philofophy  wJiich  I  put  togethcr 

hifl 


X  r;^^PREFACE. 

laft  Year.  Thcfe  Gleanings  of  Verfe,  and  occafional 
Thoughts  cn  Mifcellaneous  SulJeSfs^  which  Iiave  been 
growing  under  my  Hands  for  Thirty  Years,  arc  now 
coIIe<5ted  for  a  Prefent  to  the  Publick,  under  the  En- 
Gouragement  it  has  given  me  to  expedl  the  fame 
Candour. 

T  H  A  T  the  Compofure  of  Verfe  is  not  beneath  the 
Dignity  even  of  fublime  and  facred  Charadlers,  ap- 
pears  in  the  Example  of  Dcwid  the  Prophet  and  the 
King  ;  to  vvhich,  if  I  Ihould  add  Mofes  and  Sohmon^ 
it  v/ould  ftill  ftrengthen  the  Argument,  and  fupport 
the  Honour  of  this  Art :  And  how  far  Poefy  has  been 
made  ferviceable  to  the  Temple  and  the  Intereft  of 
Religion,  has  been  fet  in  a  fufficient  Light  by  feveral 
Pens;  nor  need  I  repeat  here  what  is  written  in  the 
Preface  to  my  Book  of  Poems  on  that  Subjecft.  But  I 
muft  confefs  it  needs  fome  Apology,  that  when  I  had 
told  the  World  Twenty-five  Years  ago  that  I  expec- 
ted  the  future  Part  of  my  Life  would  be  free  from  the 
Service  of  the  Mufe,  I  (hould  now  difcover  my  Wcak- 
nefs,  and  let  the  World  know  that  I  have  not  beeji 
able  to  maintain  my  Purpofe. 

I T  is  true  iiideed,  fome  of  thefe  Copies  were 
written  before  that  Time,  yet  a  great  Part  of  them 
muft  date  their  Exiftence  fmce  ;  for  wiiere  Nature 
has  a  ftrong  Propenfity  even  from  our  Infant-Life,  it 

wilL 


The  PREFACE.  xi 

will  awake  and  ftiew  itfelf  on  many  Occafions,  tho'  it 
has  been  often  and  fincerely  refifted,  and  fubdued,  and 
laid  to  fleep.  And  as  I  have  found  my  Thoughts 
many  a  time  carricd  away  into  four  or  five  Lines  of 
Verfe  e're  I  was  aware,  and  fometimes  in  oppofition 
to  my  Will,  fo  I  confefs  I  have  now  and  then  indul- 
ged  it  for  an  Hour  or  two,  as  an  innocent  and  grate- 
ful  Diverfion  from  more  fevere  Studies.  In  this 
View  I  ofFer  it  X.Q  my  Friends ;  and  amongfl:  the  many 
Pieces  hereii:  contain'd,  I  hope  there  are  fome  which 
will  give  them  an  agreeable  Amufement,  and  perhaps 
fome  Elevation  of  Thought  towaids  the  Things  of 
Heaven.  But  in  order  to  tafte  any  degrce  of  Plea- 
fure,  or  rcap  any  Profit  by  the  Reading,  I  muft  in- 
treat  them  ilncerely  to  feek  the  Entertainment  of  their 
Hearts,  as  in  the  Converfation  of  a  Friend  ;  and  not 
to  hunt  after  the  painful  and  aukward  Joys  of  fou? 
Criticifm,  which  is  ever  bufy  in  feeking  out  fomething 
to  difguft  itfelf. 

I  M  A  K  E  no  Pretences  to  the  Name  of  a  Poet,  or 
a  polite  Writer,  in  an  Age  wherein  fo  many  fuperior 
Souls  fhine  in  their  Works  through  this  Nation. 
Could  I  difplay  the  Excellencies  of  Virtue  and  Chri- 
ftian  Piety  in  the  various  Form^  and  Appearances  of 
it,  with  all  the  Beauty  and  Glory  in  which  Mr.  Pope 
lias  fet  the  Kingdom  of  the  Mejfiah  by  his  well-ming- 
lcd  Imitittions  oi  Ifaiab  and  Virgil;  could  I  paint  Na- 
ture  and  the  animated  Wonders  of  it  in  fuch  ftrong 

and 


xii  The  P*REFAC£. 

and  Ijvely  Colours  as  Dr.  Toiutg  has  done;  coulJ 
I  dcfcribe  its  lovcly  and  dreadful  Scenes  in  Lrnes  of 
fuch  Sweetnefs  and  Terror,  as  he  has  defcribed  thcm" 
in  hisParaphrafe  on  Part  of  the  Book  of  Jcb-,  I  fnoulJ 
liave  a  bettcr  Ground  for  a  Pretence  to  appear  among 
the  Writers  of  Verfe,  and  do  more  Service  to  the 
WorU.  Could  I  imitate  thofe  admirablc  Reprcfenta- 
tic-ns  of  Human  Nature  and  Paffion  vvhich  that  in^;e- 
nious  Pen  has  given  us,  who  v.Tote  the  latc  Volumes  oi 
Efiijik',  from  ihe  Decd  to  tke  Lhifig,  and  Letias  Moral 
and  Eniertclnwg^  I  fhould  thcn  hope  for  happicr  Suc- 
cefs  in  my  P.ndeavours  to  provide  innocent  and  iin- 
proving  Diverfions  for  politc  Youth.  Bat  fmce  I  can 
boaft  of  little  more  than  an  Inclination  and  a  Wifh  that 
AVay,  I  nuift  commit  the  Provifion  of  thefe  Amufe- 
nicnts  to  fuch  celebrated  Authors  as  I  havc  now  men- 
tloncJ,  ^v.i  tj  thc  vAnz  G-.-nius^s  cf  thc  Afr- ;  Antt 
may  tlie  Honoiir  ci  TcdV  le  rctrlcve''  by  tlxm,  ii;nj 
the  Scandal  vi^hich  has  been  caft  upon  it  by  the  Abufe 
of  Verfe  to  loofe  and  proian;  Purpofes. 

I F  tbere  are  any  of  thefe  Pieces  which  may  feem 
to  carry  in  them  fomething  too  youthful  and  trivi?!, 
I  entreat  my  Friends  to  remember,  'tis  a  Colledtion  of 
fuch  Comipofitions  of  thia  Kind  from  my  early  Years 
as  I  have  found  among  my  Papers  ;  and  if  I  had  ne- 
ver  publifhed  them  myfelf,  I  fear  it  would  have  been 
done  fomc  time  or  other  by  Perfons  into  whofe  Hands 

they 


rhe  PREFACE.  xiii 

they  might  have  bcen  dirperfcd  ;  and  then  the  niany 
mingled  Blundcrs,  which  alwavs  arife  from  frequent 
Tranfcriptions,  -  v/ould  ha\e"  utterly  difgulted  the 
Readcr,  as  weil  as  brouglu  a  double  Difgrace  upon 
the  Writer. 

'T  I  s  impofnble  for  ihe  niceft  and  mofl:  corrccl:  Pc;: 
to  avoid  the  offcnce  of  thofc  Rcaders  who  carry  an  Ex  - 
cefs  of  Deh'cacy  always  about  them,  much  lefs  do  I 
expc(5t  it  here  :  Nor  is  it  v/ithiii  the  Povvcrofany  Man 
who  writes,  to  efcape  the  Ccnfure  of  thofc  whofc 
Minds  arc  fo  fuU  of  vile  and  unclcanly  Imagcs,  that 
they  will  impofe  their  own  difhoned  and  impure 
Ideas  upon  Words  of  tJie  mofl:  difiant  and  innoccnt 
Sound,  Every  low  and  mahcious  Wit  may  turn 
even  facrcd  Language  to  vvicked  and  abominable 
Purpofes,  and  qlap  a  Sett  of  pcrverfe  Idcas  cn  the 
pureft  Diction,  Wliqre  ncith.tr  a  David  nor  a  Poul 
neither  Prophets  nor  Evangehfts  are  fafe,  no  human 
Writer  fliould  expeft  an  Exemption  ;  but  thc  Crime 
is  Ttill  in  him  that  conftrues,  and  not  in  him  that 
writes.  If  Oleo  finds  an  ill  Savour  in  every  Place 
where  he  comcs,  I  fufpccl  tliat  he  has  fome  foul  Ul- 
ccr  about  him  ;  and  when  I  hear  Flavinm  tell  me  on 
a  Snowy  Day,  that  the  Ground  looks  yellow,  I  may 
venture  to  pronounce  that  Flavinus  has  the  Jaun- 
dicc. 


As 


xiv  r^^PREFACE. 


As  for  the  Charadlers  which  are  found  here  in 
fome  of  the  EJJays^  I  profefs  folemnly  there  is  not  one 
of  the  vicious  or  foolifh  kind  that  is  defign'd  to  repre- 
fent  any  particular  Perfon.  I  never  thought  it  pro- 
per  to  have  Mankind  treated  in  that  manner,  unlefs 
upon  fome  very  peculiar  and  extraordinary  Occafions, 
and  then  I  would  leave  the  unpleafing  Work  to  other 
Hands.  It  has  been  the  Aim  and  Defign  of  my 
Life,  in  my  Hours  of  Leifure,  as  well  as  my  Seafons 
of  Bufmefs,  to  do  what  Service  I  could  to  my  Fellow- 
Creatures,  without  giving  Oftence.  I  would  not 
willingly  create  needlefs  Pain  or  Uneafmefs  to  the 
moft  defpicable  Figure  amongft  Mankind.  There 
are  Vexations  enough  diftributed  among  the  Beings  of 
my  Species,  without  my  adding  to  the  Heap  :  And 
yet  I  confefs  I  have  often  attempted  to  hit  the  fore 
Part  in  general  ;  but  'tis  with  this  fmcere  Intent, 
that  the  Wife  and  Thoughtful,  whofoever  they  are, 
may  feel  their  Difeafe  and  be  healed,  —  My  Readers 
may  be  aiTured  therefore,  that  tho'  the  Vices  and  the 
Follies  which  are  here  difplay'd  may  appear  to 
be  as  juft  and  fmcere  a  Reprefentation  as  if  they 
were  all  borrowed  from  Life,  yet  there  are  not  Fea- 
tures  enough  to  defcribe  any  Perfon  living.  When 
a  reflefting  Glafs  fliews  the  Deformities  of  a  Face 
fo  plain  as  to  point  to  the  Perfon,  he  will  fooner 
be  tempted  to  break  the  Glafs,  than  to  reform  his 

Blemifhes. 


The  PREFACE.  xv 

Blemifhes.  But  if  I  can  find  any  Error  of  my 
own  happily  defcribed  in  fome  general  Charafler, 
I  am  then  awakenM  to  reform  it  in  Silence,  with- 
out  the  publick  Notice  of  the  World  j  and  the 
Moral  Writer  attains  his  nobleft  End. 

My  particular  Friends,  to  whom  I  have  fent 
any  of  thefe  Piecesj  will  generally  be  pleafed  to  read 
them  in  Print,  and  addrefs'd  to  a  feigned  Name, 
rather  than  their  own :  This  I  found  the  fafeft 
Way  to  avoid  Offence  on  all  Hands,  and  there- 
fore  I  have  not  mentioned  one  proper  Name  herc, 
but   what  was   in  Print   before. 

Im  the  Difpofition  of  thefe  Pieces,  I  pfetend  to 
no  Order,  but  only  aimed  to  diverfify  every  Sheet 
of  the  CoIIeiftion  with  Verfe  and  Profe.  In  a 
Nofegay  or  a  Flower-Piece,  no  Man  expe£ts  an 
cxacl  Regularity  of  Situation  among  the  Parts  that 
compofe  it  :  'Tis  fufficient  if  the  Colours  and 
Fragrance  entertain  the  Senfes  with  a  grateful  Con- 
fufion. 

I  PRESUME  no  Body  will  expeft  in  fuch  a 
Book  an  Entrance  into  deep  Arguments  upon  dif- 
ficult  Subjedls  of  any  kind  whatfoever.  The  De- 
iign  is  to  pleafe  and  profit  every  gentle  Reader, 
without  giving  Pain  and  Fatigue  to  the  Mind.     If 

any 


XVI 


Jbe  PREFACE. 


any  tliing  hcrc  Vv'rittcn  may  inJace  Strangcrs  to 
take  up  lo  good  an  Opinion  of  the  Writer  as  to, 
pcrure  any  ot  bis  other  Works,  it  is  his  hearty 
Defire  and  Praycr,  that  they  may  lind  abui-wJant 
Compcnfation  in  their  ov/n  Imf  rovements  in  Know- 
lcdgc,  Virtue  or  Piety,  and  may  thereby  grow 
fitter  for  the  heavenly  World  ;  to  which  impor- 
tant  and  happy  End  all  our  Labours  h.ere  on  Earth 
fhould  confpire,  and  cven  our  Ami;fements,  whe- 
thcr  wc  read  or  write.     A?ncn. 

N  z  w  I  K  G  T  o  N', 
March  25.   173+. 


4^ 


T  H  E 


T    H    E 


T  A  B   L   E 


I.  ;^^^^,  EJR  CHING  after  God,  Page  i 

II.  Roman  Idolatry^  p.  6 

III.  71?  Dorio.  Theftrfl  Lytick  How^  p.  9 


IV.  Tnc  Hcbrew  Fcet. 

V.  T/)^  Thankful  Phikfopher, 

VI.  T}:e  PrafeofGod, 

VII.  ^  Meditiition  for  the  Ftrfl  of  M?.y, 

VIII.  Divine  Goodnefi  in  th:  Creation^ 

IX.  77?^  /7jr^i  Co72cert  of  Praife, 

X.  TT^if  World  aStranger  to  God, 
.XI.  Ptirgatory, 

XII.  T;3?  7>/;?pZ?  e^  //'^  Sun, 

XIII.  y/  Midnight  Ekvation^ 

XIV.  TT-i-  Honourahle  Magijirate^ 

XV.  A  Uffon  of  Humility, 

XVI.  TheJVa/ieofLife, 

XVII.  The  Table'blefs\i, 

XVIII.  r^w//,  ^«i  z)^tfr/^, 

XIX.  Babylon  defir^yd^    or   the 
phrafed^ 

XX.  Epitaph  on  Bigotry,  tranflated frorn  theLatin 

XXI.  7"/'^  Death  ofL^nzzTiiiiy 

XXII.  Jn  Hymn  to  Jefus,  the  Eternal  Life, 
XXm.  D>fantT/mnder, 
XXIV.  Da\\^' i  Lamentation  mr  Saul  WJonathan,p.9^ 

XX 


th  Pfalm 


P 
P 
P 
P- 
P- 
P- 
P- 
P- 
P- 
p. 
P- 
P- 
P- 
P- 
P- 


•  '9 
,  2b' 

36 

39 

40 

52 

57 
6^ 
69 


paru- 

P-  73 
P.  77 
p.  88 

P-  9^ 
p.  91 


xviii  Tbe  Ta  ble. 

XXV.  TheSkekton,  p.  i6c 

XXV I.  IFo.idi  ivithout  Spirit,  V'  ^'^?> 
XX VH.  The  Church-rani^  p.  107 

XXVIII.  To  a  Paititer  rejhring  an  old  Piffure,  p.  109 

XXIX.  On  theSight  cf  ^eenMzxy,   1694,     p.  1 1 1 

XXX.  On  the  Effigies  cf  George  Pri?ice   of  Den- 
mark,  P-  i  »4 

XXXI.  To  Velina,  cn  the  Death  of  feveral young  Chil- 
di  enj 

XXXII.  Earth,  Hcaven,   and  Hell, 

XXXIII.  A  Hornefs  Neji  dcftrofd, 

XXXIV.  Citations  and  Infcriptivis^ 

XXXV.  Againft  Lewdnefs, 

XXXVI.  A^ainjl  Drunkennefs, 

XXXVII.  Vanity  confeffd, 

XXXVIII.  Paffion  and  Reafon, 

XXXIX.  One  Dcvil  cafting  out  another^ 
XL,  Excellencies  and  Defeols  compenfated^ 
XLI.  Envy  dijcover^d, 
XLII.  The  rcugh  Manfoften^d, 
XLIII.  Ignorance  ofowfelves, 
XLIV.  Abfence  from  God,  tuho  is  our  Ail^ 
XLV.  Eormality  and  Superftition^ 
XLVI.  Coiuardije  and  Sdf-Love, 
XLVII.  Sicknefs  and  Recovery^ 

I.  The  Hurry  ofthe  Spirits  in  a  Fever, 

z .  Peace  ofCcnJcience  and  Prayer  for  Healthy  p. 

3.  Encourag^d   to    hope  for   Health 

December,    171  2. 

4.  The   wcarijome  IFeeks  0/  Sicknefs, 

5.  A  Hymn  of  Praife  for  Recovery, 
XLVIII.  The  Deift  and  the  Chrijiian, 
XLIX.  Tre  Mifhief  of  Difputes  md  Dedamations  on  . 

Religious  Ccntrovetf.es y  p.  187 

u 


p- 

115 

p- 

118 

p- 

12.0 

p- 

123.^ 

p- 

1  zg'. 

p- 

131  '■' 

p- 

133 

p- 

140 

p- 

143 

p- 

145 

p- 

148" 

p- 

153 

p- 

155 

p- 
p- 

»59 

164 

1.68 

P- 

171 

P- 

I7Z 

f//^,p.i74 
in   May, 

P-  '77 
-1712  and' 

P' 

,  180 

P- 

181 

P- 

184 

The  T  A  B  L  E.  xix 

L.  Ldbour  ajid  Paticnce  in  injlru^ing  Mmkiiid^  p.  i  g^ 
LI.  PuhUck  DifputationSy  p.  199 

LII.  Droctional Writings.  p.  202 

LIII,  An  Elcgy  on  Sophronia,  P-  214 

LI V.  An  Ekgy  on  Mrs.  Bury,  P-  2 1  7 

LV.  An   Elegiac    Ode   at   tke  Dcath  cf  Sir  T'liomas 

Abney,  p.  221 

LVI,  Entrance  upon  the  JVcrld,  P-  232 

LVII.  Sotds  in  Fetters,  p.  240 

LVIII.  ^«?  Lucius,  on  the  Death  of  ^Qvtn:i ;  Fivc  Odes 

on  De.ith  and  Fleai^en^  p.  24:3' 

1 .  The  Spirit's  Farewel  to  the  Body  after  a  long 

Sicknefs^  p.  246 

2.  The  Departing  Moment,  cr  A>fent  from  the 

Body,  P-  247 

3.  Entrance  into  Paradife,  cr  Prcfent  with  the 

Lord^  p.  248 

4.  The  Sight  of  God  in  Heaveu^  p.  249^ 

5 .  A  Funeral  Ode  at  the  Interrment  of  the  Body^ 

fuppofed  to  befung  hy  the  Mourners^    p.  250 
LIX.  Di-J.ne  Condu^  difputed  and  jufifitd,  P-  251 

LX.  Sinful  Anger  for  God's  Sake^  p,  258 

LXI.  The  Coronation  of  their  Majeflies  King  Gcor^^^e 
the  Second,  and  ^een  Caroiine,  Odlober  1 1 , 
^T^7->  p.  265 

LXII.   A  LoyalWifh^  borrow'dfrom?{a.\.  ixz^  p.  270 
LXIII.  Piety  in  a  Court,  P-  271 

LXIV.   The  Courtesus  andthe  Peevifl^^  P- 277 

[  LXI V.  ]  Commcn  Ocairrences  inoraliz^dy  P-  2  85 

LXV.  Fragments  ofVcrfe.,  p.  289 

1 .  Preface  to  a  Lctter^  ibjd. 

2.  The  Sunin  Edipfe^  p.  290 

3.  On  our  Blefftd  Saviour,  -p.  292 
LXVI.   Th  hfcriptions  on  fcveral  fmall  Frcncli  Fic- 

tures  tranfldtedy  io\d. 

LXVII,  Infcriptions  on  DiaJsy  p.  294 

LXVIIL 


XK  The  T  A  B  L  E; 

LXVIII.  Infcriptiom  onFoiirtrahi^  p.  296 

LXIX.  EpigramSy  p.  298 

LXX.  Epitaph,  p.  301 

On  Mr.  Thomas  Pickard,  ibid. 

On  Mr.  John  May,  ibid. 

On  a  near  Rehtion.,  p.  302 

On  Mr.  Samuel  Harvev,  ibid. 

On  Mr.  Mattliew  Qarke,  p.  303 

On  Mr.  Edvvard  Brodhurrt,  p.  306 

0«  5ir  Ifaac  Nevvton,  p.  308 

LXXI.  The  Cadence  ofVcrfe.^  P-  3^9 

LXXII.    T}:.e  di^ercnt  Stops  and  Cadences  cf   Blank 

Verfe,  p.  317 
LXXIII.  A Dying  WorU,  and  aDurable  Heaven^  p.  323 

LXXIV.  The  Rewards  ofPoefy,  p.  3  28 
LXXV.    A  Moral  Argument  to  prave  the  Natural  hn- 

mortaliiy  of  the  Soul^  p.  334 

LXXVI.  Three  Modern  Abfurdities^  p.  342 


The  Reader  is  defired  to  corre5l  thefefew  Mifiaks. 

PAge  7.  Line  16.  tlc^have.  p.  16.  1.  i.  StQjetasand 
HeathensfirdwithRage.  p.  21.  1.  26.  near  Forty.  p 
33.  ].  4.  Infe£ls.  p.  34.  1.  14.  n-read.  p.  67.  1.  9.  cr.  p 
77.  1.  12.  Re/ig.'on^s.  p.  83.  1.  II.  Monkijh  Vows.  p.  97 
1.  21.  Dclight.  p.  154.  1.  z\.  fiippling.  p.  155.  1.  10 
thoufand.  p.  157.  1.  12.  fpring.  p.  161.  1.  i.  Mifery.  p.  172 
1.  %.  Difirejfcs.  p.  179.  1.  ^fpeed.  p.  191.  1.  12.  fought 
p.  223.  1.  27.  attach''^.  p.  272.  1.  25.  Centre.  p.  273.  1.  21 
blot  out  (^tf/.  p.  300.  1.  6.  d^if/tfy.  p.  301 . 1.  5.  Pichard.  p 
306-  1.6.  divinis.  p.  314.  1.  18.  P^/».  p.  321.  1.  22.  for  //' 
read  this  Rule.  p.  344.  L  13.  <7«^  /i-rf/.  p.  347.  1.  12 
generally  were. 


MifceJ/aneous  Thoughts^ 


I  N 


Prose  and  Verse, 


L 

Searching  after  G  o  d  . 

INCE  wc  find  in  ourfelvcs 
that  we  think  and  reafon,  we 
fcar  and  hope,  and  by  an  A61 
of  our  Will  we  can  put  this. 
Body  of  ours  into  variousForms 
of  Motion,  we  may  boldly 
pronouncethat  we  are^  andthat 
we  Tive^  fbr  we  are  confcious  of 
adive  Power,  and  Lifc,  and  Being.  But  where 
15  the  Hand  that  made  us,  and  that  gave  us  this  Life 

B  and 


X  Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

and  Power  ?  We  know  tliat  we  did  not  make  our- 
felves  in  Time  paft,  bccaufe  We  cannot  pnDmife  our- 
felves  a  Minute  of  Time  to  come  :  We  feel  no  power 
within  to  preferve  ourfelves  a  Moment,  nor  to  refcue 
or  with-hold  this  Being  or  tWs  Life  of  ours  from  tbe 
fudclen^Demands  of  Death. 

I T  is  evident  yet  farther,  that  we  did  not-give  our- 
felves  tliefe  wondrous  Properties  and  Powers  which 
we  poffefs  i  for  tho'  we  are  fenfible  of  many  Deficien- 
cies  and.Imperfedtions,  yet  neither  the  moft'perfe<3: 
nor  moft  defeclive  amongft  us  can  add  to  our  prefent 
Se/f  thc  leaft  new  Power  or  Property.  While  we  are 
all  furrounded  with  Wants  which  we  cannot  fupply, 
and  expofed  to  Death,  which  we  cannot  avoid,  "tis  a 
ridiculous  Pretence  to  be  our  own  Makers. 

We  conclude  then  with  AfTurance,  that  \ve  are 
tlieWork  of  fome  more  powerful  and  fuperior  Hand  j 
but  how  we  cam?  firft  into  Being,  w^e  know  not  : 
The  Manner  of  our  originalExiftertce  is^hldTrom  us 
in  Darknefs  :  We  are  neither  confcious  of  our  Crea- 
tion,  nor  of  thePower  whicii  created  us.  He  made 
us,  but  he  hid  Himfelf  from  our  Eyes  and  our  Ears, 
and  all  the  Searches  of  Senfe.  He  has  fent  us  to  dwell 
in  this  vifible  World  amidft  an  endlcfs  Variety  of  Ima- 
ges,  Figures  and  Colours,  which  force  therrifelves  up- 
on  our  Senfes  ;  but  he  for  ever  difclaimsall  Image,  Co- 
lour  and  Figure  Himfelf.  He  hath  fet  us,  who  are 
inferior  Spirits,  this  Task  in  thefe  Regions  of  Mortal 

Flefti, 


///  P  R  o  s  E  attd  V  E  R  s%.  ^5 

'F]e(h,  to  fearch  zndfcel  after  him,  ifhaply  ive  mayfind 
■the  ruprema,  the  infinite  and  eternal  Spirit.  We  are 
near  a-kin  to  him,  even  hii  civn  Offspring^  but  we  fee 
not  our  Father's  Face  ;  nor  can  all  the  Powers  of  our 
'Nature  come  at  the  knowledge  of  him  that  made  us, 
hut  by  the  Labours  and  Inferences  of  our  Rcafbn  : 
We  toil  and  work  backward  to  find  our  Creator  > 
from  our  prefent  Exiftcnce  we  trace  out  liis  EtcrnitA^, 
and  through  thc  Chain  of  a  Thoufand  vifible  Eftecb 
we  fearch  out  the  Firfl,  the  Invifiblc  and  Almighty 
Caufe. 

F  o  R  the  moft  part  Indeed,  wc  arc  fo  amus^d  and 
engrofi>'d  by  tlieThings  of  Senfe,  that  we  forget  our 
jMaker,  and  are  thoughtlefs  of  -him  that  gave  us  Be- 
ing  :  or  if  we  fcek  and  follow  after  him,  'tis  on  a 
cold  Scent,  and  with  lazy  Enquiries  ;  and  when  we 
fancy  we  perceive  fomething  of  him,  'tis  at  a  Diflance 
and  in  a  dusky  Twilight  :  Wc  efpy  fome  faint  Beams, 
fome  Glimmerings  of  his  Glory  breaking  thro'  the 
Works  of  his  Hands ;  but  he  himfelf  ftands  behind  the 
Vail,  and  does  not  fhe%v  himfelf  in  open  Light  to  the 
Sonsand  Daughters  of  Mortality.  Happy  Creatures, 
if  wc  could  make  our  Way  fo  near  him  as  to  beholcl 
the  lovely  and  adorable  Beauties  of  his  Nature;  if 
we  could  place  our  Souls  (o  direc^ly  under  his  kindeft 
Influenccs,  as  to  feel  ourfelves  adore  him  in  the  mofL 
profound  Humility,  and  love  him  v/ith  moft  fublime 
AfFcclion ! 

B  2  M¥ 


^  Mtjcellaneous  Thoughts, 


M  y  G  0  D,  I  love  and  I  adore  ; 
But  Souls  that  love  would  know  thee  morc. 
Wilt  thou  for  ever  hidc,  and  ftand 
JBehind  the  Labours  of  thy  Hand  ? 
Thy  Hand  unfeen  fuftains  the  Poles 
On  which  this  huge  Creation  rolls  : 
The  ftarry  Arch  proclaims  thy  Power, 
Thy  Pencil  glows  in  every  Flower  : 
In  thoufand  Shapes  and  Colours  rife 
Thy  painted  Wonders  to  our  Eyes ; 
While  Bcafts  and  Birds  with  Iab'ring  Throats, 
Teach  us  a  G  o  d  in  thoufand  Notes. 
The  meaneft  Pin  in  Nature's  Frame, 
Marks  out  fojne  Letter  of  thy  Name. 
Where  Senfe  can  reach  or  Fancy  rove, 
From  IJill  .to  Hill,  frora  Fi.eld  to  Grove, 
Acrofs  the  Waves^  around  the  Sky, 
There'snot  a  Spot,..or  Deep,  or  High, 
Where  the  Creator  has  not  trod, 
And  left  the  Footftep  of  a  G  o  d. 

B  u  T  arc  his  Footfteps  all  that  we, 
Poor  grovelingWorms,  muft  know  or  fee  .? 
Thou  Maker  of  my  vital  Frame, 
Unvail  thy  Face.,  pronounce  thy  Name, 
Shine  to  my  Sight,  and  let  the  Ear 
Which  thou  haft  form'd,  thy  Language  hear. 
Where  is  thy  Refid.ence  ?  Oh,  why 
Doft  thou  avoid  jny  fearchijig  Eye, 


My 


/«  P  R  0  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.  $ 

My  longlng  Senfe  ?  Thou  Great  Unknown, 
Say,  Do  the  Clouds  conceal  thy  Throne  ? 
Divide,  ye  Clouds,  and  let  me  fee 
The  Power  that  gives  me  Leave  to  Be. 

O  R  art  thou  all  diffusM  abroad' 
Thro'  boundlefs  Space,  a  Prefent  GoD, 
Unfeen,  unheard,  yet  ever  near  ? 
What  fliall  I  do  to  find  thee  here  ? 
Is  there  not  fome  my  fterious  Art 
To  feel  thy  Prefence  at  my  Heart  ? 
To  hear  thyWhifpers  foft  and  kind, 
In  holy  Silence  of  the  Mind  ? 
Then  reft,  myThoughtsj  nor  longer  roam 
In  queft  of  Joy,  for  Heaven's  at  home. 

BuT,  oh,  thy  Beams  of  warmeft  Love? 
Sure,  they  were  made  forWorlds  above. 
How  fhall  my  Soul  her  Powers  extend^     ^ 
Beyond  whereTime  and  Nature  end, 
To  reach  thofe  Heights,  thy  beft  Abode, 
And  meet  thy  kindeft  Smiles,  my  G  o  D  ? 
What  ftiall  I  do  ?  I  wait  thy  Call  i 
Pronounce  the  Word,  my  Life,  my  AIJ, 
Oh  for  a  Wing  to  bear  me  far 
Beyond  the  golden  Morning-Star  ! 
Fain  would  I  trace  th'  immortal  Way, 
That  leads  to  Courts  of  endlefs  Day, 
Where  the  Creator  ftands  confefs'd, 
la  his  own  faireft  Glories  drefs'd. 

B  j  .    Somc 


$  Mtfiellaneous  ThoughtSy 

Some  {hining  Spirit  help  me  rife, 
Gome  waft  a  Stranger  thro'  the  Skies  ; 
Blefb^d  J  E  s  u  s,  meet  me  on  the  Road, 
Firft  Offspring.of  th'  Eternal  GoD, 
Thy  Hand  fliall  lead  a  Younger  Son, 
Clothe  me  with  Veflures  yet  unknown, 
And  place  me  near  my  Fat:her's  Throne. 


} 


II. 

R  O  M  A  N    I  D  O  L  A  T  R  Y. . 

T  T  !ias  been  an  old  Temptatlon  to  Mankind,  al^- 
moft  ever  fince  Human  Nature  was  made,  that  we 
(lefire  to  ftnd  out  fomething  juft  h'k«  G.OD.  Hehcc 
arofs  a  great  part  of  the  Idihtry  of  Aiicient  Ages,  and 
of  almoll  all  the  Htathen  World  :  Hence  the  skilful 
nnd  impious  Labours  of  the  Stiitmiy  and  the  Painter : 
HejKe  ail  th,e.  gaudy  glittering  Images,  and  all  the 
monflrous  Sliapcs  tliat  poffefs  and  inhabit  theTemjdes 
of  the  Gentiks.  They  wore  all  defigned  to  re{->refent 
the  fiiining  Glorie^,  or  tlte  a^ive  Powers  of  Divini- 
tr.  The  frultful  Braih  of'  the-  /V/  and  the  Prie/i 
jiave  yet  farther  multiphed  rfie  Images  of  Godhead, 
to  make  it  rijTfeat'  like  fomething  which  we  cJiiX 
iecl,  heai',  or  fee,  Bi:t  io  ivhomJJkill  ive  Uken  Gcd? 
IVith  whdt  Ulenefi  wi1l'yiedmpare  me^  fiifh.  ihe  holy  om 
ef  IJrael  (■  Ifa.  xl.  iSf,  25.  He  is,  and  "will  be  for  ever, 
the  Great^  lnimita^Ie,  and  the  Inf.jnte  Vnhmvn. 

A  ND 


i«  FsiOSi.  and  Verse.  7 

An  D  yet  this  Folly  has  not  fpent  itfelf  all  in  the 
Meathn  World.  The  Jewi/h  Nation  was  often  fond 
of  Idols,  and  they  would  more  than  once  have  the 
Figure  of  Divinity  among  them ;  tho'  the  Wildernefs 
•of  57«<7/,  in  the  Days,  of  ykf^''^j,  and  theTents  oi  Dan 
■and  Btihel  in  'Jerobadm'^  Reign,  can  bear  witnefs  that 
it  Ioolc'd  much  more  like  a  Calf  than  a  Gcd.  Ifracl 
too  often  fell  in  with  tlie  reft  of  the  Nations,  and 
changed.  the  Glory  of  the  WHonup.tible  God  hrto  an  Image 
?nade  lih  to.  corruptihk  Man^  and  to  Birds  and  four-foottd 
Beajis,  Qtid  creepiug  Things. 

T  H,  E  ChrijVuin  World  indeed  has  much  clcarer 
Light,  aiid  nphler  Difcovefies  of  the  invifibb  Natur.e 
pf  Go  o  ;.  and  yet  bow  hasthe  ^omiJJj  Chuich  fallej-i 
into  grofs  Idolatry  in  this  refpeiSt,  and  with  profaii^* 
Attempt  have  painted  n\\.  thc  BkJ/cd  Trimty  /  What- 
foever  Pretence  they  may  dcrive  from  tha  human  Na- 
ture  of  the  Soa  of  God,  or  from  the  Dove-Iike  Ap- 
pearance  of  the  holy  Spirit,  to  draw  the  Figures  of  a 
Dove  or  a  Man,  as.  a  Memorial  of  thofe  uxcred  Con- 
defcenfions  ;  yjet  I  kjiow  no  fufficient  Warrant  they 
can  have  to  ^y  i^  ^^'^^  vcry  Face  of  Divine  Prohibition, 
and  to  paint  and  car\e  the  Figure  of  God  the  Father 
like  an  old  Man,  when  he  ncver  appeared  among  Mcji 
in  any  bodily  Forms.;  and  our  LsrJ  Jcfns  himfel.f  fa^s 
of  him,  Te  have  neither  heardhii  Fciif  ■.:!  viy.  tiriie.,  vt^r 
feen  hiiShapcy  John  v.  37. 

B  4  BuT 


ti  Mtfcetlaneous  Thoughts^ 

B  u  T  this  Popijh  Church  defcends  yet  to  meaner 
Idolatry  ;  and  becaufe  Chriji,  who  is  God  manifejf  in 
ihe  Flejl)^  reprefents  himfelf  in  a  Metaphor,  as  tkt 
Breadof  Life,  to  fupport  and  nourifh  our  Souls,  there- 
fore  they  turn  their  Saviour  into  a  real  Piece  ofBread: 
They  make  a  God  of  Dough,  and  they  devour  and 
they  worfliip  the  Work  of  the  Baker.  O  fottifli  Re- 
ligion,  and  ftupid  Profeflbrs  !  Could  we  ever  have 
imagin\i  that  fuch  an  abjiird  Superjliticn,  tbat  gives  the 
Lye  grofly  to  Senfe  and  Reafon  at  once,  fliould  ever 
find  room  in  the  Belief  of  Man,  in  fpight  of  all  his 
fcnfible  and  his  rational  Powers-?  Could  one  have  ima- 
gined,  I  fay,  that  fuch  a  glaring  Falfliood,  that  fliocks^ 
at  once  our  intelledual  and  our  animal  Faculties, 
fhould  be  lodged  and  foftered  in  the  Bofom  and  Heart 
of  the  Sons  of  jldam  ?  But  Experience  here  exceeds 
Imagination.  What  a  fliameful  Reproach  and  Scan- 
cal  is  it  to  human  Nature,  that  a  Faith  with  fo  7nuch 
Nc*fenfe  in  it,  fliould  overfpread  whole  Nations,  and 
triumph  over  the  largeft  Part  of  the  knowing  and  re- 
fined  World  ?  But  every  dawning  Day-Iight  is  a  Wit- 
nefs  of  thefe  National  Idolatries,  thefe  Scandals  to 
Mankind  and  all  their  intelleftual  Glory»  Every  Sun 
that  fets  or  rifes  in  fome  Part  or  other  of  the  Earthy 
beholds  Multitudes  of  Fools  and  Philofophers,  Plough- 
men  and  Princes,  acknowledging  the  Breaden  God, 
bending  the  Knee  to  the  Wafer-Cake,  and.  bowing  to- 
vrards  the  facred  Repofitory  of  the  kneaded  Idol. 

'TWAS 


/«  Prose /7«^  Verse.         ^ 

'T  w  A  s  the  firft  Amhition  and  Iniquity  of  Man  to 
affecfl  a  forbidden  Lihnefi  to  God ;  there  is  Infokncs 
added  to  the  Ambitiony  when  we  bring  down  Go  d  to 
our  Leve],  and  make  him  a  Man^  like  ourfelves :  But 
when  we  fink  the  Deity  beneath  our  own  Nature, 
when  we  make  a  mere  Animal  or  Vegetable  of  him, 
and  turn  him  into  a  bit  of  fenfelefs  Pajle^  the  Madnefs 
of  this  Impiety  muft  for  ever  want  a  Name, 


m: 

To  DORIO; 

The  firft  Lyrkk  Hour, 

'X*H  E  R  E*s  a  Line  or  two  that  feem  to  carry  in 
"*•  them  I  know  not  what  Softnefs  and  Beauty  inthe 
beginning  of  that  Ode  of  Cafimire^  where  he  de- 
fcribes  his  firft  Attempts  on  thC'  Harp,  and  his  com- 
mencing  a  Lyrick  Poet. 

AMs  dormiit  in  Rofijs^  . 
Liiiifique  jacem  ^  violis  DieSy 

Prima  cui  potui  vigil 
Sommm  Pieria  rumpere  Barblto'^ 

B  5  Cura 


ip         Mlfceltmieotis  ThougBsf^. 

Curc$  dim   vacuusPuer    ■ 
Fsrmofi   legerem:  Littcr^,  N^rvi»,  ; 
,    .Enf  iUo  jnihi  pofim 
;■  :     .  Bkrent  fok  dies,  &c, 

,  I  H  A  V  £  tried  to  irnitatie  thefe  Li;ieSj  b^t  I  caipjaot; 
fonn  th^m  mo  Englijh  Lyrich  :  1  have  relea^M.  rnyfejf 
froni  the  F^Eters  o/ Rhime,  yet  I  CiyoAOt  gain  irvy  own 
Approbation.     I  have  given  niy  Thoughts  a  further 
lyoofe,  and  fpread  the  Senfe  abroad,  but  I  fear  tliere  is 
fjimething  of  the  Spirit  evaporates;  and  tho'  the  e]e-- 
gant  Idea  perhaps  does  not  entirely  efcape,  yet  I  could 
wifh  for  a  happier  Exprefllon  of  it.     Such  as  it  is,  re-  - 
ceive  it,  Doric,  with  your  ufual   Candor,  corredl  the 
Deficiencies,  and  "reftore  the  Elegance  of  tiie  Polijh- 
Poet,  to  thofe  fix  or  feven  Hnes  wherein  I  have  at- 
temptcd  an  Iiiutation, 

'Tw  A  s  an  unclouded  Sky:  The  Day-Star  fat 
On  higheft  Noon  :  No  Breezes  fann'd  the  Grove,    ■ 
Nor  the  Muficians  of  the  Air  purfu'd 
Tiieir  artlefe  WarWings  j  while  the  fultry  Day. 
Lay  all  difFus'd  and  flumbring  on  th^  Bgfom 
Of  the  white  Lilly,  the  perfum'd  Jonquil, 
And  lovely  blufliing  Rofe.     Then  fifft  my  Harp  , 
Labouring  with  Qhildifti  Innocence  and  Joy 
Brake  Silence,  and  awoke  the  fmiling  Hour. 
With  infant  Note^,  foluting  tl)e  fair  Skies, 
(^Heaven's  higheft  Work)  the  fuir  enameird  JVfeads, 


And 


h  P^R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e,        li» 

Aiid  tall  green  Shades  along  the  winding  Banks 
C)f  ^wrygentlv-flGwing-.     Thence  my  Days^ 
Commenc'd  harmonious ;  there  began  ray  Skill 
To  vanquilh  Care  by  the  fweet-founding  String. 

Ha  I  L  happy  Hour,  Q  bleft  Remenibrance,  Hail  ! 
And  banifliWoes  for  ever.     Harps  were  made 
For  Heaven's  Beatttudes  ;  Tfeere  y^t''sSon 
Tunes  his  bold  Lyre  with  Majefty  of  Sound, 
To  the  Creating  ajid  All-rulingPower 
Not  unattentive  :  While  ten  thoufand  Tongucs 
Of  Hymning  Seraphs  and  disbodied  Saints, 
Eccho  the' Joys  and  Graces  round  the  Hills 
Of  Paradife,  and  fpread  Meffiahh  Name. 
Tranfporting  Blifs !  Make  hafte,  ye  roIlingSpIieres, 
Ye  circling  Suns,  ye  winged  Minutes  hafte, 
Fulfil  my  deftin'd  Peribd  here,  and  raife 
The  meaneft  Son  of  Harmony  te  join 
la  .thut  Celeilial  .Confort. 

■»wo  r  ■< 


W 


'm>^mJ^ 


IV.  n^ 


12/         Mifcellanems  Thoughts^ 


IV. 

The  Hebrew  Poet. 

TO;  Ode  reprtfenU  the  Difficulty  of  a  jujl  Tranjlation  of 
the  Pfalms  of  David,  in  dll  their  Hebrew  Glory  j 
luith  an  Jpologyfor  the  Imitation  of  them  in  Ghriftia» 
Language, 

f  Thefirfi  Hint  borroived from  CasimirEj 
feffxaquifquisy  (sff.  Book  4.  Od.  7.X 

I. 

C*  HEW  me  the  Man  that  dares  andfing» 
*^  Great  Davi^^  Verfe  to  Britijh  Strings : 
Sublime  Attempt !  but  bold  and  vain 
A$  building  ^(^^^/'s  Tower  again. 

n: 

The  Bard  *  that  climb'd  to  Cooperh-Hilly. 
Reaching  at  Zion^  fham'd  his  Sk.ill, 
And  bids  the  Sons  of  Jlbion  own, 
That  JudaVs  Pfalmift  reigns  alone. 

*  Sir  John  Denham  who:%ain'd  great  Reputatien  by  bis 
foenty  calfd  Cooper^s-Hill,  faiVd  in  hii  Trafi/lation  ef  the 
Pfalms  ^David, 

Blcft 


m  Prose  /2»^  Versb-        r^ 
ni. 

Bleft  Poet !  now  like  gentle  Thatnes 
He  fooths  our  Ears  with  SilverStreams^: 
Like  his  own  Jordan  now  he  rolls, 
And  fweeps  away  our  captive  Souls,- 

IV. 

Softly  the  tuneful  Shepherd  leads 
The  Hebrevj  Flocks  to  flowry  Meads !' 
He  marks  their  Path  with  Notes  divine,. 
While  Fountains  fpring  withOil  andWine,. 

V. 
Rivers  of  Peace  attend  his  Song^ 
And  draw  their  Milky  Train  along  :: 
He  Jars ;  and  Lo,  the  Flintsare  broke, 
But  Honey  iflues  from  the  R«ck, 

VI. 

When  kindling  with  vi(3orious  Flre 
He  fhakes  his  Lance  acrofs  the  Lyre  j . 
TheLyre  refounds  unknown  Alarms,, 
And  fets  the  Thunderer  in  Arms, 

vn. 

Behold  the  G  o  D  I  th'  Almighty  King, 
Rides  on  a  Tempeft's  glorious  Wing  j , 
His  Enfigns  lighten  round  the  Sky, 
And  moving  Legions  found  on  high', . 

Tcji 


1 4 .;        Mifcellanmis  Tfmught^^  . 
•Vlll. 

Ten  thoufand  Cherubswajf  hi$  Courfcj 
Chariors  of  Fire  and  fkmlng  Horfe  :. 
Earth  trembles ;  and  herMountains  fiow,  . 
At  his  Approach,  iike  melting  Snow; 

IX. 
Biat  who  thofe  Frowtis  of  Wrath  can  draw, 
That  ftrike  Heayen,  Earth,  and  Hell,  withAwe.^ 
Red  Lightning  from  his  Eye-lids  broke  ; 
His  Voice  wus  Thunder,  Hailj  and  Smoak, 

X. 

He  fpake  ;  the  cleavLng  Wa,ters  iled, 
And  Stars  beheld  the  Ocean's  Bied  : 

While  the  great  Mafter  ftrikes  his  Lyrej 
You  fe^.the  frightedFloods  retire: 

XT. 

InHeaps  the  frighted.Billpws  ftand, 
Waiting  the  Changes-  of  his  Hand  : 
H'e  leads  his  Jfrael  thro'  the  Sea,  - 
And  watry  Mountalns  guard  their  Waj».- 

•  XII.. 

,,  ■  ■    ■  -5 

Turning  his  Hand  wit]i S^overelgnSweep,  '^ 

He  drowns  ail  ^gypt  in  the  Deep  : 

Then  guides  the  Tribes,  a  glorious  Band, 

Thro'  Defarts  to  the  promis'd  Land-. 


Here 


2n  Prose^///Verse.         i^^ 

XIII. 
Herc  Camps  with  wlde  imbatterij  Forcc, 
Here  Gates  and  Bulwarks  ftop  tlieir  Courfe  :  . 
He  llorms  the  Mounds,  the  Bulwark  falls, . 
The  Harp  lies  ftrow'd  with  ruin'd  Walls,  . 

XIV.  . 
See  his  broad  Sword  fiies  o^er  ^he  ScringSj 
And  mows  down  Nat.ions  with  tljeir  Kings  : 
From  every  Chord  his  Bolis  are  liurrd, 
And  Vengeance  Imites  the  rebcl  Worldo 

XV. 

Lo,  the  great  Poet  fhilts  the  Scen?,  . 
Ajid  fhews  tlie  Face  of  G  o  d  Serene : 
Truth,  Meeknefs,  Peace,  Salvation  ride^ 
With  Guardsof  Juftice,  athisSide. 

xvr.. 

No  meaner  Mufe  could  weave  tJie  Light, 
To  form  his  Robes  divinely  bright, 
Or  framea  Crown  of  Stars  to  fliine 
With  Beanis  of  Majefty  divine, 

x.vn. 

Now  in  prophetick  Light  he  fecs 
Ages  to  come,  and  dark  Degrees  : 
He  brings  rhe  Prince  of  Glory  downj-, 
Stript  of  his  Robe  and  ftarry  Crown, 


^6         Mijtellaneous  Thoughts^. 

XVIII. 

See  how  the  Heathen  Natlons  rage, . 
See,  their  combining  Powers  engage 
Againft  \xC Anointed  oi  the  Lord, 
The  Man  whom  Angels  late  ador'^,.. 

XIX. 

God's  only  Son  :  Behold,  he  dies: 
Surprizing  Grief !  The  Groans  arife, 
The  Lyre  complains  on  every  String, 
And  mourns  the^Murther  of  her  Xing, 

XX. 

But  Heaven's  Anotnted  muft  not  d well 
In  Death :  The  vanquiih'd  Powers  of  Hcll '' 
Ycild  to  the  Harp's  Diviner  Lay  ; 
The  Grave  refigns  th'  illuftrious  Prey, 

XXL 

Mejftah  lives,  Mejftah  reigns : 
The  Song  furmounts  the  Airy  Plalns, 
T'  attend  her  Lord  with  Joys  unknown^ 
And  bear  the  Vi<Sor  to  his  Throne.  - 

xxir 

Rejolce,  ye  ftiining  Worlds  on  hlgh, 
Behold  the  Lord  of  Glory  nigh  : 
Eternal  Doors,  your  Leaves  difplay, . 
To  make  the  Lord  of  Glory  Way, 


What 


iH  Prose  <a:;/<!/ V  e  r  s  e.         17 

XXIIL 
What  mortal  Bard  has  Skill  or  Force 
To  paint  thefe  Scenes,  to  tread  this  Courfc, 
Or  furnifli  thro'  th'  Ethereal  Road 
A  Triumph  for  a  rifing  G  o  d  ? 

XXIV. 

^Artonifti'd  at  (o  vaft  a  Flight 
^  Thro'.  flaming  Worlds  and  Floods  of  Light, 
*My  Mtife  lier  awful  Diftance  keeps, 
Still  followingj  but  witli  trembling  Steps, 

XXV. 

She  bids  her  humble  Verfe  explain 
The  Hebrew  Harp's  fublimer  Strain  3 
Points  to  her  Saviour  ftill,  and  ftiows 
What  Courfe  the  Sua  of  Glory  goes, 

XXVL 

Here  he  afcends  behind  a  Cloud 

Of  Incenfe,  *  therc  he  fets  in  Blood  j  "t" 

She  reads  his  Labours  and  his  Names 

In  fpicy  Smoak,  *  and  Bleeding  Lambs.  t 

XXVIL 

Rich  are  the  Graces  which  fhe  draws 

From  Typcs,  and  Shades,  and  Jmijh  Laws  5 

*  Chriji^s  ItiterceJftGii, 
f  Uis  Sacrifice, 

With^ 


•t®  MtfcellaneoHs  Thoughts^ 

With  thoufand  Glories  long  foretold 
Tb  turn  the  future  Age  to  Gold. 

xxviir. 

Grace  Is  her  Therae,  and  Joy,  and  Love  : 
Defcend,  ye  Bleffings,  from  above, 
And  crown  my  Song.     Eternal  G  o  d, 
For2:ive  the  Mufe  that  dreads  thy  Rod, 

XXIX. 

Silent,  flie  hears  thy  Vengeance  roll, 
That  crufhes  Alortab  to  the  Soul, 
Nor  dares  afllime  the  Bolt,  nor  flieds 
Th'  immortal  Curfes  on  their  Heads, 

XXX. 

Vet  finccher  Go  d  is  ftill  the  fame, 
And  David'^  Son  is  all  her  Theme, 
She  begs  fome  humbk  Place  to  fing 
In  Confort  with  Judcifs,  King. 


y.  The 


tn 


Prose  andY^v.S'E.         19 


A 


V. 

The  Thankful  ThHofofhsr. . 

A-  M  O  N  G  all  the  ufeful  and  entertainlng  Studies  oF 
•^  Philofophy,  there  is  none  fo  worthy  of  Man  as 
tJie  Science  of  Human  Naturc.  .  There.  is  none  that 
furnifties  us  with  more  Wonders  of  divine  Wifdom,  or 
gives  higher  Occafion  to  adore  divine  Goodnefs.  Chari- 
fm^  a  Gentleman.of  great  Piety  andWorth,  has  fpent 
xnany  an  Hour  upoji  thls  deligKtful  Theme.  In  the 
midft  of  hls  Mcditatbns  onc  Day,  he  was  dcbating  thus 
wlth  himfejf,  aiid  enquiri^ig  what  fort  of  Being  he. 
v/as. . 

Now  I  ftand,  faid  he,  now  I  fie  dqwn  ;  I  rife 
again  and  walk,  I  eat,  drink  and  fleep;  myPulfc 
beats,  and  I  dravv  tlie  Breath.  of  Life  :  Surely  I  have. 
the  Parts  and  Pbwers  of  ziy  j^nmal ;  T  am  a  liying 
Body  of  Flefh  and  Blbod,  a  v/onderfiil  Engine,  witJTk^ 
many  Varicties  of  Motion.  But  let  me  confijder  alfo 
wliat  otlier  A6lions  I  pcrform. 

I  T  H  IN  K,  I  meditate  and  contttYG,..  1  compare 
Thlngs  and  judge  of  thejn  ;  now  I  doubt,  and  thcn  \ 
belicve  ;  I  will  what  I  acl,  and  fometimes  wifh  what 

I  can- 


20  Mifcellaneous  Thotights, 

I  cannot  ail :  I  defire  and  hope  for  what  I  have  nofy 
as  well  as  am  confcious  of  what  I  have,  and  rejoyce 
init  :  I  look  backward  and  furvey  Ages  paft,  and  I 
look  forward  hito  what  is  to  come  :  Surely  I  muft  be 
a  Spirit,  a  thinking  Power,  a  Soul,  fomething  very 
diftin6l  from  this  Machine  of  Matter  with  all  it» 
Shapes  and  Motion?. 

Mere  Matter  put  into  all  pofllble  Motion,  can 
never  think,  reafon  and  contrive,  can  never  hopeand 
wifti,  asldo,  and  furvey  diftant  Times,  the  paft  and 
future.  Yet  'tis  as  impofTible  alfo  that  a  Mind^  a  SouJy 
fliould  walk  or  lie  down,  ftiould  eat  or  drink  j  but  I 
feel,.  I  know,  I  am  aflured  I  do  all  thefe.  I  perform 
{bme  AcSions  that  cannot  belong  to  a  Spirit,  and  fome 
that  Flefii  and  Blood  can  never  pretend  to. 

W  H  A  T  am  I  then  ?  What  ftrange  kind  of  Be- 
ing  is  this,  which  is  confcious  of  all  thefe  different 
Agencies,  both  of  Matter  and  Spirit  ?  What  fort  of 
Thing  can  I  be,  who  feem  to  think  and  reafon  in  my 
Head,  who  feel  and  am  confcious  of  Pain  or  Eafe» 
not  at  my  Heart  only,  but  at  my  Toes  and  Finger& 
too  ?  I  conclude  then,  I  can  be  nothing  elfe  but  a 
Compounded  Creature,  made  up  of  thefe  two  diftind  Be- 
ings,  Spirit  and  Matter  j  or,  as  we  ufually  exprefs  ity 
Soul  and  Body, 

'Ti  s  very  plain  alfo  to  me,  upon  a  fmall  Enquiry, 
that  this  Body  and  this  Soul  did  not  make  themfelves, 

nor 


in  Prose  and  Vek^e.         ir 

nor  one  another.  But  did  not  I  myfelf  join  thefe 
two  differentNatures  together  when  they  were  made? 
Did  not  my  Soul  take  this  Body  into  Union  with  it- 
fclf  ?  By  no  means  ;  for  the  firft  Moment  that  I 
knew  any  thing  of  myfelf,  I  found  the  Powers  of 
Thought  working  in  an  Animal  Nature  ;  that  is,  I 
found  myfelf  fuch  a  Co?npcunded  Being  as  I  now  am  : 
I  had  Jio  more  hand  in  the  Union  of  thefe  two  Princi- 
ples,  or  in  the  Compofition  of  myfelf,  than  I  had  in 
the  making  of  thofe  two  diftinfl:  Beings  of  which  I 
ara  compounded  :  Tt  was  G  o  d  only,  that  great 
G  o  D  who  created  both  Parts  of  mc,  the  Animal 
and  the  Mind^  who  alfo  joined  them  together  in  fo 
ftrange  an  Union ;  and  if  I  were  to  enter  intothe  M}'- 
fteries  of  this  Union,  it  would  open  a  wide  and 
various  Sccne  of  Amazement  at  his  unfearchable  Wif- 
fclom. 

B  u  T  let  rae  examine  a  little :  Was  there  no  an- 
cient  and  early  Kindred  between  this  particular  Spirit 
and  this  Fkjh  of  mine,  this  Mind  and  this  Animal  ? 
•Is  there  no  original  Relation,  no  efTential  Harmony 
and  fpecial  Congruity  between  my  Body  and  my 
Soul,  that  fliould  make  their  Union  neceflary  ?  None 
at  all  that  1  can  find,  either  by  my  Senfeor  Refleclion, 
my  Reafon  or  Experience.  Thefe  two  Beings  have 
dwelt  nowThirty  Years  together,  ftrangely  united 
into  one,  and  yet  I  have  nevx-r  becn  able  to  trace  any 
one  Inftance  of  previous  Kindred  between  thcm.  This 
Mind  might  have  bcen  paii'd  with  any  oUier  human 

Body  } 


11  Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

Body  j  or  this  Body  with  any  other  Mind.  I  can 
iind  nothing  but  the  fovereign  Will  of  God  that 
joined  this  Mind  and  this  Animal  Body  together,  and 
raaJe  the  wondrous  Compound  :  It  was  He  ordained 
me  to  be  what  I  am,  in  all  the  Circumftances  of  my 
Nativity. 

S  E  E  s  T  thou,  O  my  Soul,  that  unhappy  Cripple 
lying  at  thy  Neighbour's  Door,  that  poor  mif-fhapen 
Piece  of  Human  Nature  r  Mark  how  ufelefs  are  his 
Limbs  !  he  can  neitJ^er  fupport  nor  feed  himfelf. 
Look  overagainft  him,  there  fits  one  that  was  Blind 
from  his  Birth,  and  begs  his  Bread.  If  thou  hadft 
■  been  originally  united  to  either  of  tliefe  Pieces  of  Flefh 
?.nd  Blood,  then  hadft  thou  been  that.poor  Crir.ple,  or 
that  very  blind  Beggar. 

y  o  N  D  E  R  lies  a  piteous  Spefiacle,  a  pcar  In- 
fant  that  came  into  theWorld  but  tl)ree  Months  ago, 
its  Flefh  cover'd  with  Ulcers,  and  its  Bones  putrifying 
•with  its  Father's  Sins  :  I  hear  its  whining  Cries,  and 
k>ng  piteous  Wailings ;  its  bitter  Groans  touch  my 
Heart,  and  awaken  all  my  Tendernefs  :  Let  me  ftand 
and  reiltct  a  little.  Surely  I  had  been  that  wretched 
Thing,  that  little  pining,  perifliing  Infant,  and  all 
thofe  Pains  and  Agonies  had  been  mine,  if  God  had 
referved  my  Soul  in  his  fecret  Counfels  till  a  few 
Months  ago,  and  then  confined  it  to  that  unhappy 
^lanfion  of  difeafed  and  dying  Flefh. 

O  N  C  E 


zn  V  R  0  s  E  nnd  Vx  r  s  e,         13 


^O N  c  E  more  let  my  Eyes  affecl  my  Heart.  What 
,a  ftrange  aukward  Creature  do  I  fee  there  !  The 
Form  of  it  is  as  the  Form  of  a  Man,  but  its  Motions 
feera  to  be  niore  irregular,  and  the  Animal  more  fenfe- 
lefs  tlian  a  very  Bcall:  :  Yet  they  tell  me,  it  is  forty 
Years  old.  It  might  liave  been  by  this  time  a  Statef- 
man,  a  Philofopher,  a  General  of  an  Army,  or  a 
learned  Divine  ;  but  Reafon  could  ne\er  acl  nor  fliew 
itfelf  in  that  difordered  Engine  :  The  tcnder  Brain 
was  ruffled  perhaps,  and  the  Parts  of  it  difturbed  in 
-the  very  Embrio,  or  perhaps  it  v,'as  fhaken  with  Con- 
vulfions  when  it  firft  faw  the  Light  ;  but  the  Place  of 
its  Birth  was  the  fame  with  m.ine,  and  the  Neighbours 
fay,  h  was  born  the  next  Door  to  me,  How  mifera- 
ble  had  I  been  if,  when  that  Body  was  prepared,  my 
Soul  liad  received  order  to  go  but  one  Door  farther,  to 
fix  its  mortal  Dwelling  there,  and  to  manage  that 
poor  difabled  Machine  !  And  if  the  Spirit  alfo  that  re- 
fidcs  there  had  been  united  to  my  Flefh,  it  had  been 
a  fad  Exchange  for  me:  That  Ideot  had  been  all  thac 
I  Was  by  Nature,  and  I  had  been  that  Ideot. 

M  V  Meditations  may  ro^'e  farther  abroad,  may 
furvey  paft  Ages  and  diftant  Nations,  and  by  thc 
Powers  of  Fancy,  I  may  fct  myfelf  in  the  midft  of 
them. 

H  A  D  this  Spirit  of  mine  bccn  joined  to  a  Body 
formcd   in  Lapland  or  Malabar,  I   had  v.'orfhip'd  thc 

Images 


14         Mifcellaneous  Thonghts^ 

Images  of  Thor  or  Bramma  ;  and  perhaps  I  had  been 
a  Lapland  Wizard  with  a  conjuring  Drum,  or  a  Ma- 
hbarian  Prieft,  to  wear  out  my  Life  in  ridiculous 
Eajiern  Ceremonies, 

H  A  D  my  Soul  been  formed  and  united  to  a  Bri- 
tifo  Body  fifteen  hundred  Years  ago,  I  had  been  a 
painted  Britrn^  a  rude  Idolater,  as  well  as  my  Fa- 
thers  ;  a  fuperftitious  Druid  had  been  my  higheft  Cha- 
ra<Sler,  and  I  fhould  have  paid  my  abfurd  Devotions  to 
(bme  fancy'd  Deity  in  a  huge  hollow  Oak,  and  Jiv'd 
and  dy'd  in  utter  Ignorance  of  the  true  G  o  d,  and  of 
J  E  s  u  s  my  Saviour.  Or  had  my  Spirit  been  fent  to 
Turkey^  Mahomet  had  been  my  Prophet,  and  the  ridi- 
culous  Stories  of  the  Alcoran  had  been  all  my  Hope  of 
Etenial  Life. 

S  H  o  u  L  D  fome  Flatterer  ftand  by  and  tell  me, 
*'  As  your  Stature  is  tall  and  manly,  fo  your  Gcnius 
"  is  too  fublime,  and  your  Spirit  too  bright  to  be 
'*  buried  under  thofe  Clouds  of  Darknefs.  Should 
he  praftice  upon  my  Vanity,  and  fay,  "  Charijius  has 
"  a  Soul  and  Reafon  which  would  have  led  him  to 
'*  the  Knowledge  of  the  true  G  o  d,  if  he  had  been 
"  born  in  theWilds  oi  America,  and  had  for  his  Fa- 
•'  ther  a  Savage  Iroquois,  or  his  Anceftors  had  been  all 
*'  Naraganfet  Indiam?* 

Fond  fooIiftiMan,  to  imagine  thereare  noGenius's 
lyhich  out-fhine  me  in  the  wild  and  barbarous  World, 

na 


in  Prose  ^//^Verse.         25^ 

iiobrightand  fublimelntelleilsbut  thofe  which  are  ap- 
pointed  to  a6t  their  Part  in  the  Nations  of  Europe  ! 
Good  Senfc  and  natural  Smaitnefs  are  fcatter'd  among 
raoft  of  the  Nations  of  Mankind.  There  are  ingeni- 
ous  Africans,  Anuruan  Wits,  Philofophers  and  Poets 
in  Makbar  ;  there  are  both  the  Sprightly  and  the  Stu- 
pid,  the  Foolifh  and  the  Wife,  on  this  and  on  t'other 
Ijde  of  the  great  Atlantick  Ocean  :  But  the  brightcr 
P.owers  of  Nature  cannot  exert  themfelves  and  ihine  in 
tiic  famc  Glory,  when  the  Affairs  and  Circumrtances 
all  arourwJ  them  are  mean  and  low,  and  defpicable, 
when  thcir  Life  andTime,  and  all  their  Powers  from 
their  vcry  Infancy,  are  eniploy'd  in  providing  a  forry 
Suftenance  for  the  Body,  and  fupplying  the  importu- 
note  Appetites  of  Nature. 

H  A  D  I  the  largeft  Share  of  nataral  Underftand- 
ing  and  Sprightlinefs,  far  beyond  what  my  Friends- 
#  can  imagine,  all  the  Advantage  of  it  would  have  been, 
that  perhaps  I  had  fhapdd  a  nicer  Bov/,  or  fet  the 
Feathers  on  an  Arrow  for  fwifter  Flight  than  my 
Neighbour  :  Perhaps  I  might  have  fooner  hit  the  fly- 
ing  Partridge,  and  laid  a  furer  Trap  for  a  ^Vild-Goofc 
or  a  Pigcon  ;  I  had  learnt  to  outwit  the  Brutal  Crea- 
tion  with  more  Succefs  ;  egregious  Viftory  and 
Triumph  [  Or  if  I  had  employ'd  my  beft  Spirits  and 
Vigour  in  the  Affairs  of  my  Rcligien,  I  might  have 
danced  in  more  antick  Poftures  round  fome  facred 
Bonfire,  and  contriv'd  fome  new  Superftitions,  or 
perhaps  authorized  fome  new  Gods  or  Goddeffes  ;  or 

C  I  mig:ht 


z6^  Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts, 

I  might  have  howrd  among  my  Fellows  with  more 
liideous  Airs  than  they,  and  have  worfliipped  the  De- 
vil  with  more  Zeal  and  A(3:ivity,  Wretched  Prero- 
gatives  of  a  fprightly  Nature,  left  without  the  Beams 
of  illuminating  Grace  ! 

T  o  Thee,  O  my  G  o  d,  to  Thee  are  due  my 
eternal  Praifes ;  and  to  Thee  will  I  ofFer  the  humbleft 
Acknowledgments  and  Songs  of  higheft  Gratitude.  It 
13  Thou  haft  made  my  Compounded  Nature  what  it 
is,  in  all  the  comfortable  and  hopeful  Attendants  of  it ; 
Thou  haft  not  joined  my  Spirit  to  the  difturbed  Bram 
©f  an  Ideot,  to  a  crlppled  Carcafs,  or  a  Piece  of 
rumpled  Deformity.  Thou  haft  given  to  my  Soul  a 
Body,  with  its  proper  Limbs  and  Organs  of  Senfe,  ca- 
pable  of  Aclivity,  Converfe  and  Service  among  the 
reafonable  World.  Blefled  be  my  G  o  d  for  ever, 
that  he  has  appointed  me  to  a<3:  my  Part  in  Great  Bri~ 
tahi^  while  'tis  a  Land  of  Divine  Light  j  he  has  pla- 
ced  my  Soul  in  fuch  a  Dwelling,  and  with  fuch  Cir- 
cumftances  among  the  Sons  of  Men,  as  may,  through 
his  Grace,  prepare  it  for  the  Company  of  Angels,  and 
for  his  own  bhfsful  Prefence  in  the  WorJd  a- 
bove. 

B  u  T  has  not  my  Spirit  been  deprefs'd  by  a  fickly 
Conftitution,  and  confined  to  a  feeble  Engine  of 
Flefli  under  daily  Diforders  ?  Have  I  not  fuftained 
many  Sorrows  on  this  Account,  and  wafted  fome 
'^'cars  among  the  Infirmities  of  the  Body,  and  inpain» 

ful 


///    PROSE^W^   VeRSE.     -       1J 

ful  Idlencfs  ?  Are  there  not  feveral  Souls  favour'd 
■with  a  more  eafy  Habitation,  and  yoaked  with  a  bet- 
ter  Partner  ?  Are  they  not  accommodated  with  En- 
gines  which  have  more  Health  and  Vigour,  and  fitua- 
ted  in  much  more  happy  Circumflances  than  mine  ? 
Wbat  then  ?  Shall  I  repine  ?.t  my  Lot,  and  murmur 
againft  my  Creator,  becaufe  he  has  made  fome  Hun- 
dreds  happier  tliaii  I  ;  while  I  furvey  whole  Nations, 
.and  Millions  of  Mankludj  that  have  mt  a  thoufandth 
Part  of  my  BlefiTings  ? 

I  D  A  R  E  not  complain,  O*  my  G  o  0,  that  I  ani 
not  one  of  the  few  who  enjoy  the  higheft  Pleafures, 
and  thc  moft  eafy  Circumftances  on  Earth  ;  but  I  have 
infinite  reafon  to  adore  thy  diftinguifliing  Goodnefs, 
who  haft  not  fuffer^d  me  to  be  ouq  of  tlic  mife- 
rable  Millions ! 


C  2  VI.  T,:t 


28  Mlfcellaneoiis  Thoiights, 


VI. 

27^^  P  R  A  I  S  E  C/  G  O  D. 

TT7HAT  is  Praifer  'Tis  a  Part  of  that  Divine 
Worfhip   which    we  owe  to  the  Power  that 
made  us  :  'Tis  an  Acknowledgment  of  the  Perfec- 
tions  of  Go  D,  afcribing  all  Excellencies  to  him,   and 
confefling  all  the  Works  of  Nature  and  Grace  to  pro- 
ceed  from  him.      Now  when  we  appLy  ourfehes  to 
this  Work,  and  drefs  up  our  Notions  of  a   G  o  d  in 
Magnihcence  of  Language,    when  we  furnifti  thern 
out    with    fhining  Figures,  and   pronounce    them  Tn 
founding  Words,    we   fancy  ourfelves    to  fay   great 
Things,  and  are  even  charm'd  with  our  own  Forms 
cf  Praife :     But  alas !  the  higheft  and  beft  of  them  fet 
in  a  true  Light,  are  but  tJie  feeble  Voicc  of  a  Creature, 
fpreading  be  fore  the  Ahnighty  Being  that  made  him, 
fome  of  his  own  low  and  htt!e  Ideas,  and  telHng  him 
what  he  thinks  of  the  Great  G  o  d,  and  what  G  o  d 
has  done.     When  the  holy  Pfalmiji  would  exprefs  his 
honourable  Thoughts  of  his  Maker,  thej'  amount  only 
to  this,  Thou  art  good,  and  thcu  docd  good^  Pfal.  cxix. 
6%.     How   inconfiderable  an   OfFering   is  this  for  a 
G  o  D  !  and  yet  fo  condefcending  is  his  Love,  that  he 

looks 


/;^?ROSE  ^;/^  Verse.         29 

>looksdown,  and  is  well  pleafed  to  receive  It.  Let  us 
ftieditate  on  this  a  little,  and  learn  how  utterly  unwor- 
thy  our  higheft  Attempts  of  Worfhip,  and  our  moft 
refined  Strains  of  Praife,  are  of  divine  Acceptance. 

1 .  W  E  can  ttll  G  oi>  hut  a  very  little  cfivkat  he  /;, 
Or  has  done,  How  fmall  a  Portion  do  we  know ! 
aiKi  how  mean  niuft  our  Praife  be  !  Now  to  fpeak  of 
the  Worth  of  another  fo  very  poorly  and  imperfeiflly, 
would  be  an  AfFront  among  Mehj  yet  the  great  G  o  d 
takes  it  well  at  our  ITands,  when  we  labour  to  fay 
what  we  know  of  his  Greatncfs  or  his  Goodnefs. 
Our  brigjiteft  Ideas  of  him  eclipfe  his  Glory,  and  our 
higheft  Language  fmks  beneath  the  Dignity  of  his 
Nrtture.  God  U  gyeat^  and  zve  kiiow  hhn  not,  Job  xxxvi. 
26,  he  ia  f.^talted  ahm  our  Praijh,  Nehem.  ix.  5. . 

2,  W  B  can  tell  G  0  d  nothing  hut  what  he  knoivs 
miuh  hetter  himfelf.  'Tis  not  to  increafe  his  Knowledge 
when  we  fpread  our  own  Concerns  before  him  in 
Prayer ;  for  he  knows  what  we  are,  what  is  our 
Frarae,  what  afe  our  WeakneiTcs  and  our  Wants,  far 
bettcr  than  we  ourfelvcs  are  acquainted  with  them  ; 
much  lefs  when  we  Praife  him,  can  we  prefume  to 
know  what  G  o  d  is,  or  what  he  does,  or  tell  him 
any  thing  that  relates  to  himfelf,  but  what  he  knew 
eternally  before  us,  and  knows  infinitely  better  than 
we  do  ;  wc  can  add  no  ncw  Idcas  to  his  Mind,  nor 
enlarge  one  of  his  own  Ideas, 

C  3  1.  We 


50  Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

3.  We  can  only  tdl  God  what  Angeh  andhappj 
Souh  tell  him  ?nuch  more  of^  and  in  a  much  better  manner  - 
And  yet  all  that  Angels  can  fay  bears  no  Proportion 
to  what  G  o  D  is  ;  for  if  it  did,  G  o  D  were  not  in- 
finite.  Should  a  little  Emmet  that  feels  the  Sun- 
beams,  lift  up  its  Head  and  {diy^  0  Sun,  thou  art  warm  j 
a  creepjng  Infeil  that  knows  nothing  of  tlie  Nature, 
the  Glory,  the  wonderful  Properties,  Operations  and 
EfFedis  of  this  prodigious  and  aftoniihing  World  of 
Fire,  nothing  of  its  various  and  admirable  Motions, 
xeal  or  fuppos'd,  nothing  of  its  vaft  Circumference  and' 
Greatnefs  ;  yet  this  defpicable  Emmet  gives  Praife  to- 
the  Sun  much  more  than  we  can  do  to  our  G  o  d, 
much  more  than  Angels  can  do,  more  than  ajl  created 
Nature  can  do  ;  becaufe  there  is  fomc  Proportion  be- 
tween  the  Praifes  of  this  creeping  JForm,  and  the  Glo- 
ries  of  the  Sun  ;  they  are  both  iinite  :  But  the  Glories 
of  our  G  o  D  are  infinite  ;  therefore  no  created 
Praife  bears  any  Proportion.  'Tis  only  the  Godhead 
that  can  fulfil  its  own  Praifes ;  that  Voice  that  built 
the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  can  tell  what  G  o  d  is, 
and  what  G  o  d  has  done.  If  he  pronounce  a  Word 
and  create  all  Things  by  it,  'tis  only  that  Word  caa 
pay  him  fuificient  Praife. 

H  o  w  far  then  are  our  feeble  and  mean  Eflays  of 
Worfhip  from  adding  any  tliing  to  our  Makerf' 
A  forry  Ant  gi\  es  Heat  and  Glory  to  the  Sun,  by 
telling  it  'tis  warm,  as  much  as  all  tbe  Acclamations  of 

Heav.en 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  R  s  e.         31 

Heaven  and  Earth  can  add  reaJ  Glory  to  the  blefled 
God,  His  Eflential  Perfeftions  are  uncapable  of  re- 
ceiving  the  leaft  Grain  of  Addition  from  all  thc 
Thoughts  and  Tongues  of  the  intelle<Slu?.l  World. 
His  own  Tdea  of  Himfelf,  is  his  nobleft  Praife. 

How  far  are  the  moft  exalted  Praifes  we  pay  to 
GoD,  below  the  Danger  of  Flattery !  Flattery  ex- 
alts  a  thing  beyond  its  Nature  and  Merit ;  but  no 
Fellow-Creature  would  call  himfelf  flatter'd,  fhould 
we  fpeak  of  him  in  fo  mean  Terms,  and  fo  much  be- 
low  Jiis  Worth,  as  we  muft  do  when  we  fpeak  the 
higheft  Praifes  of  our  G  o  d  that  our  Thoughts 
can  reach  to  :  and  yct  Pfal.  1.  23.  He  ihat  offereth 
Praife,  glorifies  me.  O  Divine  Condefcenfion,  that  a 
G  o  D  will  efteem  our  defpicable  Praifes  fome  of  his 
Glorles  ! 


VII. 

A  Meditationfor  the  Ftrji  ofViKx. 

TT7  H  A  T  aftoniftiing  Variety  of  Artifices,  what 
'  inumerable  Millions  of  exquifite  Works,  is  the 
G  o  D  of  Natiire  ingaged  in  every  Moment  !  How 
glorioufly  are  bis  all-pervading  Wifdom  and  Power 
employ'd  in  this  youthful  Seafon  of  the  Year,  this 
Spring  of  Nature  !  What  infinite  Myriads  of  Vege- 
table  Beings  is  he  forming  thls  very  Moment,  in  tlieir 
Roots  and  Branches,  in  thelr  Leaves  and  BloiToms, 

C  +  thci.r 


3^         Mifcellanmts  Thoughts^ 

their  Seeds  and  Fruit  !  Some  Indeed  begun  to  diTcover" 
their  Bloom  amidft  theSnows  oi  January,  or  under 
the  rougli  cold  B]afts  of  March  :  thofe  Flowers  are 
withered  and  vanifhed  in  JpHI,  and  their  Seeds  are 
are  now  ripening  to  Perfeaion.  Others  are  fhewing 
themfelves  this  Day  in  all  tlieir  blooming  Pride  and 
Beaiity ;  and  while  they  adorn  the  Gardens  and  Mea- 
dows,  withgay  and  glowing  Colours,  they  promife 
their  Fruits  in  the  Days  of  Harveft.  The  whole  Na- 
tion  of  Vegetables  is  under  the  Divine  Care  and  Cul- 
ture,  his  Hand  forms  them  Day  and  Night  with  ad- 
mirableSkill  and  unceafmg  Operation,  according  to  the 
Natures  he  firfi:  gave  them,  and  produces  their  Buds 
and  Foliage,  their  flowry  Blofibms,  antl  rkh  Ffuit 
in  their  appointed  Mx.'nths :  Their  Progrefs  "m  Life  i§ 
exceeding  fwifc  at  this  Seafon  of  the  Year  j  and  their 
fuccefiive  Appearances,  and  fweet  Changes  of  Rai- 
m^nt,  are  vifible  almoil  hourly. 

B  u  T  thefe  Creatures  are  of  Lower  Life,  and  give 
but  feebler  Difplays  of  the  Maker's  Wifdom.  Let  us 
raife  our  Contemplatlons  another  Story,  and  fur- 
vey  a  nobler  Theatre  of  Divine  Wonders.  What 
endlefs  Armies  of  Animals  is  the  Hand  of  God 
moulding  and  figuring  this  Moment  throughout 
his  Brural  Dominions  I  What  immenfe  Flights 
of  little  Birds  ai-e  now  fermenting  in  the  Egg, 
Iieaving  and  growing  towards  Shape  and  Life  ! 
What  vaft  Flocks  of  four-footed  Creatures,  what 
Droves  of  large  Cattle  arc  now  framing  in  their  early 

Em- 


tn 


Prose  andYTLKSY..         ^^ 


Embrio's,  imprifoned  in  the  dark  Cells  of  Nature  !  and 
others  perhaps  are  moving  towards  Liberty,  and  jufl 
preparing  to  fee  the  Light.  What  unknown  Myriads 
of  Infefts  in  their  various  Cradles  and  Nefting-places 
are  now-  working  toward  Vitahty  and  Motion  !  and 
Thoufands  of  them  with  their  painted  Wings,  jufl  be- 
ginning  to  unfurl,  and  expand  themfelves  into  Flut- 
tering  and  Day-Light :  While  other  Families  of  them 
have  forfaken  their  husky  Beds,  and  exult  and  gHt- 
ter  in  the  warm  Sun-Beams ! 

A  N  exquifite  World  of  Wonders  is  complicated 
even  in  the  Body  of  every  Httle  Lifedl,  an  Ant,  a 
Gnat,  a  Mite,  that  is  fcarce  vifible  to  the  naked  Eyc. 
Admirable  Engines  !  which  a  whole  Academy  of 
Philofophers  Gould  never  contrive,  which  the  Nation 
of  Poets  hath  neither  Art  nor  Colours  to  defcribc  . 
nor  has  a  World  of  Mechanicks  Skill  enough  to  frame 
the  plaineft,  or  coarfeft  of  them,  Their  Nerves, 
their  Mufcles,  and  the  minute  Atoms  which  compofe 
the  Tluids-  fit  to  run  in  the  little  Channels  of  their 
Veins,  efcape  the  Notice  of  the  moft  fagacious  Ma- 
thematician,  with  all  his  Aid  of  GlafTes.  The  active 
Powers  and  Curiofity  of  Human  Nature  are  limited  in 
tlieir-Parfuit,  and  muft  becontent  to  lie  down  in  Ig- 
norance.  —  Hitherto Jhall  ye  go  and  mfurthcr. 

'T  I  s  a  fublime  and  conftant  Triumph  over  all  the 
Intellectual  Powers  of  Man,  which  the  greatGoD 
maintains  every  Moment  in  thefe  inimitable  Works  of 

C   5  Na- 


34  Mifcellaneous  ThoiightT^ 

Kature,  inthefe  impenetrable  Recefles  andMyfleriesof 
Divine  Art  !  and  tlie  Month  of  Ma)\  is  the  mofl 
fhining  Seafon  of  this  Triumph.  The  Fkgs  and  Ban- 
ners  of  Almighty  Wifdom  are  now  difp!ay'd  round 
half  the  Globe,  and  the  other  half  waits  the  return  of 
the  Sun,  to  fpread  the  fame  Triumph  over  the  SdU" 
ihern  World.  This  very  Sun  in  the  Firmament  is 
G  o  d's  prime  Minifter  in  this  wondrous  World  of 
Beings,  and  he  works  with  fovereign  Vigour  on  the. 
Surface  of  the  Earth,  and  fpreads  his  Influence?  deep 
under  the  Clods  to  every  Root  and  Fibre,  moulding 
them  into  their  proper  Forms,  by  Divine  Dire^lion.' 
There  is  not  a  Plant,  nor  a  Leaf,  nor  one  httle 
branching  Shread,  above  or  beneath  the  Ground,  that 
'fcapes  the  Eye  or  Influence  of  this  beneficent  Star :  An. 
iliuftrious  emblem  of  the  Omniprefence  and  Univerfal. 
Adlivity  of  the  Creator. 

B  u  T  has  this  all-wife  Creator,  this  fupreme  Lord 
of  all  Nature,,no  intelledtual  Prime  Minifter  at  all  m 
thefe  his  Dominions  ?  Has  he  delegated  all  his  Powers 
to  that  bulky  Globe  of  Fire  which  we  call  the  Sun,, 
that  inanimate  and  unthinking  Mafs  of  Matter  ?  Is 
this  huge  burning  and  fenfelefs  Body  commiflion'd  to 
penetrate  every  dark  Cranny  of  Nature,  either  with 
Jts  Light  or  Heat,  and  to  animate  every  Atom  in  the 
Vegetable  and  Animal  Kingdoms,  and  yet  no  intellec- 
tual  Being,  no  Spirit  fo  much  akin  to  G  o  d,  as  to  be 
favour'd  with  the  like  extenflve  Vicegerency  ?  Tho' 
the  bight  of  Reafon  does  not  tell  his  Name,  yet  has. 

not 


/«  PROSE  and  Versc.        35* 

not  Revelation  informed  us  ?  Yes,  furely,  there  is  a. 
Man  after  G  o  d's  own  Heart,  the  fairell  Image  of 
the  Creator,  and  neareft  akin  to  him,  ^hlong  all  the 
Works  of  his  Hands  :  There  is  a  Man,  ttnd  his  Name 
is  J  E  s  u  s,  who  holds  moft  intimate  and  perfonal 
Union  with  the  Godhead,  in  whom  all  Divine  Wif- 
dom  dwells  bodily,  and  to  his  Care  has  the  Father 
committed  all  the  infinite  Varieties  of  the  Vegetable 
and  Animal  Worlds.  By  him  are  all  thefe  Wonders 
produced  in  the  Courfe  of  Providence,  as  by  an  Under- 
agentin  the  K.ingdt)m  of  Nature.  Is  not  the  Govern- 
ment  of  Heaven  and  Earth  put  into  his  Hands  ?  Is  he 
not  made  Lord  of  Principalities  and  Powots,  of  Men, 
Angels,  and  Devils,  and  of  all  their  Works  ?  And 
can  we  think  that  he  has  been  deny^d  the  Govsrn- 
ment  of  the  lower  Parts  of  his  Father's  Workman- 
(hip  ?  Does  he  not  manage  all  Things  in  thc  World 
of  Grace  ?  Surely  then  we  may  infcr,  he  rules  as^ 
wifely  and  as  fpacioufly  in  the  upper  and  lower  Re- 
gions  of  the  Creation,  as  an  intelledaal  and  confciouS' 
Inftrument  of  the  Providence  of  his  Father,  God. 
My  Father  worketh  hitherto^  and  I  work,  I  and  my  Fa- 
ther  are  One.  And  every  Creaiure  which  is  in  Heaven, 
and  on  the  Earth,  and  under  the  Earth^  and  fiuh  as  are 
in  the  Sea,  and  all  that  are  in  them^  heard  I  fayingy  Bhf 
fmg  and  Honour,  and  Glory  atidPoiver^.be  to  him  that 
ftteth  uponthe  Throiie  ^  and  to  the  Lamb  fer  sver  andever^ 
Am«n.. 

VIII.  Tk» 


^6         Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts, 


viir. 

l^ivine  Goodnefs  in  the  Creatiom 

'Tp  H  O  S  E  Authors  have  been  very  entertaining  to 
me,  who  have  taken  a  Survey  of  the  IVifdom  of 
God  in  the  Works  of  Nature  ;    fuch  are  the  Reverend 
and  Pious  Mr.  Ray^  m  his  Treatife  on  that  Subjed  ; . 
Mr.  Derham^  in  his  two  Volumes  written  on  thatDi- 
vine  Theme  ;  and  the  Archbilhop  of  Cambray, .  in  his 
Demonftration  of  the  Exiftence  of  G  o  d.     But  I 
do  not  remember  to  have  read  in  thofe  Authors  this 
one  Inftance  of  the  wide-fpreading  Diflufion  of  Di- 
vine  Goodnefs  through  this  lower  World,  {viz.)  That-" 
the  moft  univerfal  and  confpicuous  Appearances  both 
of  the  Earth  and  Sky,  are  defigned   for  the  Conveni— 
ence,  the  Profit  and  Pleafure  of  all  the-Animal  Crea- 
tion  :    AII  that  we  fee  above  us,  and  all  beneath  us,  is 
iiiited  to  ourNourifhment  or  to  our  Delight. 

W  H  A  T  is  more  neceuary  for  the  Support  of  Life, 
than  Fiod  ?  Behold  the  Earth  is  cover'd  with  it  all  a- 
round  ;  Grafj,  Herbs  and  Fruits  for  Beaftsand  Men, . 
were  ordain'd  to  overfpread  all  the  Surface  of  the 
Ground,  fo  that  an  Animal  could  fcarce  vrander  any 
whcre,  but  his  Food  was  near  him.  Amazing  Pro-  - 
vifionfor  fuch  an.iramenfe  Family  ! 

W  H  A  T 


/»  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.         3^7 

W  H  A  T  is  more  joyful  than  the  Light  ?  Truly 
the  Light  isfweet  (fays  the  wifeft  of  Men)  and  a  plea' 
fajit  thing  'tis  to  hehold  the  Light  of  the  Swi.  See  the 
whole  Circuit  of  the  Heavens  is  replenifh'd  with  Sun- 
beams,  fo  that  while  tlie  Day  lafts,  wherefoever  the 
Eye  is  placed,  'tls  furrounded  with.  this  Enjoyment .. 
it  drinJcs  in  the  eafy  and  general  Blefling,  and  is 
thereby  entertained  with  all  the  particular  Varieties  of 
the  Creation.  'Tis  Light  conveys  to  our  Notice  all 
the  Riches  of  the  Divine  Workmanfhip  ;  without  it 
Nature  would  be  a  huge  and  eternal  Blank,  and  her 
infinite  Beauties  for  ever  unknown. 

A  G  A  I  N  j  What  are  the  fweeteft  Colours  in  Na- 
ture,  the  moft  delightful  to  the  Eye,  and  moft  refrefh- 
ing  too  ?  Surely  the  Grcen  and  the  Blne  claim  this  Pre-- 
eminence.  Common  Experience,  as  well  as  Philofo- 
phy,  tells  us,  that  Bodies  of  Bhie  and  Green  Colours. 
fend  us  fuch  Rays  of  .Light  to  our  Eyes,  .as  are  leaft 
hurtful  or  ofFenfive  j  we  can  endure  them  longeft  ; 
whereas  \.h&  Red  and  the  Tellczv,  or  O r ang e  Colour, 
fend  more  uneafy  Rays  in  abundance,  and  give  greater 
Conilifion  and  Pain  to  the  Eye  j  they  dazzle  it  fooner, 
and  tire  it  quickly  with  a  little  intent  Gazing ;  there- 
fore  the  divine  Goodnefs  drefi'd  all  the  Heavens  in  Blue, 
arud  the  Earth  in  Green.  Our  Habitation  is  overhung 
with  a  Canopy  of  moft  beautiful  Azure^  and  a  rich  ver- 
dattt  Pavement  is  fpread  under  our  Feet,  that  the  Eye 
aay  be  pleas'd  and  eafy,  wherefoever  it  turns  it''elf, 

aiKl 


j8  MifielUneous  Thoughts, 

and  that  the  moft  untverfal  Objecls  it  has  to  converfc 
with  might  not  impair  the  Spirits  and  make  the  Sen(e 
weary. 

I- 

Wl->en  G  o  d  the  new-made  World  furvey'd,. 

Flis  Word  pronounc'd  the  Building  good  j 
Sun-beams  and  Light  the  Heavens  array'd, 

And  thewhole  Earth  was  crown'd  with  Focd.. 

Colours  that  charm  and  eafe  the  Eye, 

His  Pencil  fpread  all  Nature  round  ; 
With  pleafmg  Bliie  he  arch'd.the  Sky, 

And  a  Green  Carpet  dreft  the  Ground.. 

III. 

Let  envious  Atheifts  ne'er  complain 
That  Nature  wants,  or  Skill,  or  Care  5 

But  turn  their  Eyes  all  round  in  vain, 
T'  avoid  their  Maker's  Goodnefs  there,. 


Jhe 


in  F  R  0  s  E  ani  V  e  r  s  e.  3  ^ 


IX. 

The  facred  Concerp  of  Traife. 
I. 

/*^  O  JVTE,  pretty  Birds,  fly  to  this  vcrdant  Shade,- 
Here  let  our  difFerent  Notes  in  Praife  confpire : 
'Twas  the  fame  Hand  your  painted  Pinions  fpread, 
Thst  fonn'd  my  nobler  Powers  to  raife  his  Honours 

[higher, 
II. 

Fair  Songflei-6,   come  j  beneath  the  facred  Grove 
We'll  fit  and  teach  the  Woods  our  Maker's  Name  : 
Men  have  forgot  his  Works,  his  Power,  his  Love, 
Forgot  thc  mighty  Arm  that  rear'd   their  wondrous 

[Frame, 

m. 

Ifearch  the  crowded  Court,  the  bufy  Street,. 

Run  thro'  the  Villages,  traceevery  Road  : 

In  vain  I  fearch  ;  for  every  Heart  I  meet 

Is  laden  with  the  World,  and  empty  of  its  G  o  d, 

IV. 

How  fhall  I  bear  with  Men  to  fpend  my  Days  ? 
Dear  feather'd  Iiuiocents,  you  pleafe  me  beft ; 


AO  MtfcellaneousThoiights^. 

My  G  o  D   has  fram'd  your  Voices  for  his  Praife, 
His  high  Defigns  are  anf'.ver'd  by  your  tuneful  Breaft. 

V. 

Sweet"\Varblers,  come,  wake  a!l  vour  chearful  Tongues,  ^ 
We  jo)'n  with  Angels  and  their  Heavenly  Choirs  ; 
Our  humble  AIfs  n»ay  ^mitate  their  Songs, 
Tiio'  bolder  are^their  Notes,  and  purer  are  their  Fires.  ■ 

VI. 

Had  I  ten  thoufand  Hearts,  my  God,  my  Love,' 
Had  I  ten  Thoufand  Voices,  all  are  thine  : 
Where  Love  enflames  the  Soul,  the  Lips  muft  move, 
Nor  Ihall  the    Song  be  mortal  where  the  Theme'3 

[Divine- 


X. 

Ihe-  Wdrld a  Stranger  to  God. 

I. 

T  N  F  I N  I T  E  Beauty ,  everlafting  Love,         [thee ! 
How  are  our  Hearts,  ourThoughts,  eilrang^d  from 
Th'  eternal  God  furrounds  us ;  yet  we  rove 
In  Chafe  of  airy  Toys,  and  foUow  ?.s  they  flee. 


/;;  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  k  s  e.         4:1 
II. 

Oli  could  I  crj',  and  make  the  Nations  hear, 
From  NorthioSouth  my  Voice  {hould  teach  thy  Namc: 
Td  tell  them,  that  they  buy  their  Joys  too  dear, 
And  pay  inimortal  Souls  for  glittering  Duft  or  Fame. 

111. 

Almfghty  Powcr,  break  ofF  there  Chalns  of  SeJife, 
Melt  them  away  with  Love's  celeftial  Fire, 
Creatc  the  World  ajlcw ;  let  Man  coinmence 
A  Seraph  Jlere  on  Earth,  let  Mart  to  Heaven  afpire. 


TV  RGATO  RT, 

^npW  AS  a  gainful  Contrivance  of  the  Priefts  ef 
Rome^  to  erecl  a  Building  between  Heaven  and 
Hell,  where  to  difpofe  of  good  Chriftians  after  Death 
till  they  are  compleatly  fit  for  Heaven  :  This  is  Pur~ 
gatory  \  a  Place  wherc  the  remaining  Vices  of  the  dy- 
ing  Man  are  purged  out  v/ith  Fire  :  The  Torments 
of  it  are  faid  to  be  equal  to  the  Torments  of  Hell,  and 
diff*eronIy  in  thc  Duration.  Thofe  Souh  for  whom 
the  Prieft  h  hind  to  fay  moft  MalTes,  are  fooneft  freed 

from  '■ 


4^  Mtfcelhneous  Thoughts^ 

from  the  Reliasof  Iniquity,  and  get  the  fpeedleft  Re- 
leafe  to  the  heavenly  Regions.  This  fills  the  CofFers  of 
the  Clergy  by  the  Legacies  of  the  Dead  :  Every  one 
that  leaves  the  World,  takes  fomething  away  from- 
his  Friends  and  his  Heirs  to  purchafc  Prayers  for  him- 
felf,  and  to  ftiorten  the  Anguifh  of  his  Purification. 
Even  that  excellent  Man,  the  Archbifhop  of  Camhrayy 
in  his  Pofthumous  Book  called  liis  Spiritual  JVorksy 
fpeaks  of  the  Neeeffity  of  diis  purifying  Fire,  for  good 
Chriftians,  to  burn  out  the  Remnant  of  Self-Love,' 
by  teaching  them  Patience  and  entire  Refignation  of 
the  Will,  and  perfedl  Contentment  under  the  fiery 
Difcipline. 

B  u  T  I  cannot  imagine  how  this  DoArlne  fhould 
be  any  Tcmptation  to  Men  to  become  Profelytes  to 
tlie  Church  of  Rome  :  One  Inftance  of  tlns  kind 
which  I  am  going  to  relate,  methinks  fhould  affright 
Perfons  for  ever  from  turning  Papifts.. 

Promedoft  was  bred  in  the  Proteflant  Faith,  but 
having  a  fuperflitious  Turn  of  Mind,  and  being  much 
imprefl  by  the  Difcourfe  of  an  Uncle  who  was  a 
devout  Catholick,  he  bcgan  to  waver,  and  was  in- 
c)in'd  to  change,  He  went  lately  to  pay  a  Vifit  to 
this  Uncle  on  his  Death-bed  ;  where  after  many  Crof- 
fings  and  Anointings,  and  HoJy  Charms,  he  faw  the 
dying  Man  continue  ftill  in  utmoft  Difirefs  and  Hor- 
ror  ;  for  notwithflanding  all  the  Devotions  of  hi 
Life,  and  the  Ceremonies  at  his  laft  Moments,  yet 

he 


/;/  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.         43 

he  thought  himfelf  plunging  into  Torments  equal  to 
Hell :  His  Flcfh  was  convulsM,  and  his  Soul  con- 
founded  at  the  Thoughts  of  fuch  immediate  Anguifh. 
He  ordered  in  liisWill  five  Hundred  Poundsworth  of 
Mafles,  yet  he  was  not  afTured  whether  the  State  of 
of  his  Purgation  would  continue  Months,  or  Years,  or 
Ages.  Amidft  thefe  Agonies,  Promedon  faw  his  Un- 
cle  expire,  and  performed  thc  laft  kind  Ofiice  to  clofe 
his  Eyes. 

I  N  his  return  home,  he  talked  thus  with  himfeir,. 
**  What  ?  Can  the  Pope  promife  no  more  than  this  ? 
**  Muft  a  Man  that  is  almoft  fit  to  be  Sainted  be  fent 
**  to  Hell  for  a  Seafon,  till  the  Priefts  are  well  fee'd  to 
"  fay  Prayers  enough  to  fetch  him  out  of  it  ?  Is  the 
**  Mercy  of  G  o  D  fo  limlted  in  the  Popifli  Do£lrine, 
**  and  reduced  to  fuch  a  Scantling,  as  not  to  fave  us 
**  without  fome  Atonements  of  our  own  ?  Is  not  the 
**  Blood  of  our  Redeemer  fufficient  of  itfelf  to  pur- 
*'  chafe  our  full  Pardon,  but  muft  we  buy  part  of 
**  it  with  tlie  Anguifta  of  our  own  Souls  after  Death  ? 
'*  Cannot  the  blefted  Spirit  make  his  own  fan6lifying 
**  Work  perfed,  but  tlje  Fire  of  Purgatory  muit 
**  help  to  burn  out  our  Sins  ?  Has  not  C  h  r  i  s  r 
.**  promifed  me  in  the  Bible,  that  if  I  am  faithful  till 
**  Dcath,  I  fhall  mehe  a  Crown  of  Lifc,  and  has  the 
'*  Prieft  Power  to  delay  my  Crown,  and  keep  me  {o 
"  long  out  of  the  Pofleffion,  till  his  Maftes  and. 
"  Prayers  fliall  bring  me  into  it  ?  Is  not  all  the  Grace 
*'  of  thc  Gofpel  a  fufiiciem  Security  againft  the  Pains 


44  Mtfcellaneoui  Tboughty:^ 

**  cf  Hell,  biit  after  all  my  Faith  and  the  Labours  of 
**  my  Devotlon,  I  muil  be  confignM  to  hclllfh  Tor- 
*'  ments,  colour'd  and  foftcn'd  with  ancther  Name  ? 
*'  Does  not  the^U^ord  of  God  give  Encouragement  to 
*'  hope,  that  when  lue  Jepart  hence  we  jhall  be  unih 
<■'  Chrijl  ?  that  when  I  am  ahfent  from  tke  Bcdy  I  {hall 
*'  be  prefent  with  the^Lord  P  And  this  is  not  only  the 
"  Bleffing  of  an  Apoi^le,  but  even  a  Difciple  of 
"  Ch  [ft  of  the  loweft  Rank,  and  whofe  Charadter 
"  could  make  no  Pretence  to  Merit,  has  the  fame 
» '  Privilege.  A  Thief  upon  thb-  Crofs,  put  to  Death 
"  by  the  Hand  of  Juftice  for  his  Crimes,  and  who 
*'  (as  fome  Divines  fuppofej  had  reviled  our  Saviour 
*'  juft  beforc,  (becaufe  fome  of  the  facred  Hiftorians 
**  charge  both  tho  Thicvcs  with  reviling  him  ;)  Such 
**  a  Wretch,  I  fay,  who  did  not  begin  to  repcnt  till 
**  he  began  to  die,  has  a  Promife  from  our  bleflcd 
**  Lord,  that  he  {hould  be  luith  him  in  Paradife  that 
*'  very  Day,  becaufe  his  Repentance  and  Faith  were 
*'  fmccre.  And  according  to  theie  Encouragements 
**  of  the  Gofpel,  havc  I  not  heard  of  many  a  reli- 
*«  gious  ProtefJant  dying  upon  the  Faitli  of  the  New 
*'  Teftament  with  Joy,  and  good  Aflurance  of  his 
*'  immediate  entrance  into  Bleflednels  r  And  are  thefe 
"  Terrors  and  Agonies  of  Spirit  which  I  jufl:  now 
*'  belield,  all  the  Confolation  that  the  Priefts  of  Rome 
**  will  allow  to  fo  religious  and  devout  a  Man  as  my 
*'  Uncle  was  ? 

*'  F  ARE' 


/;/  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  R  s  e.         45^ 

"  F  A  R  E  w  E  L,  farewel,  ycDeceivers  :  My  Bible 
"  .{hall  be  my  only  Guide,  and  tl"ie  Grace  of  G  o  d 
'*  for  ever  preferve  me  in  that  Religion  whicH  puts  (o 
*'  much  Honour  on  the  Sufferings  of  our  bleffed  Sa- 
"  viour,  as  to  ftcure  Heaven  to  a  good  Man,  as  foon 
"  as  he  departs  from  Earth. 


XII. 

The  Temple  of  the  Sun, 

T  F  I  were  an  Idolater  and  would  build  a  Templc 
for  the  Sun,  I  {hould  make  the  wholc  Fabrick 
to  confift  of  Glafs  ;  the  Walls  and  Roof  of  it  fliould 
be  all  over  tranfparent,  and  it  fliould  need  no  other 
Windows.  Thus  I  might  every  where  behold  the 
Glory  of  the  G  o  D  that  I  worfliip,  and  feel  his  Heat 
and  rejoyce  in  his  Light,  and  partake  of  the  Vital  In- 
fiuences  of  that  illuftrious  Star  in  every  Part  of  his 
Temple..  But  may  not  this  Happinefs  be  obtained 
without  forfaking  the  True  G  o  d,  or  falling  off  to 
Idolatry  ? 

S  u  R  E  L  Y  the  bleffed  Ordinances  of  Chriftianity 
are  thus  contrived  and  defigned.  Such  are  Bapcifra 
aiid  the  Lord's  Supper,  Preaching,  Praying  and  Pl'al« 

mody. 


4^  Mijcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

mody.  Thefe  Inftitutions  of  Worfhip  are  chofen 
and  appointed  with  fuch  divine  Wifdom,  that  they 
reprefent  to  us  the  Glory  of  th-e  feveral  Perfeftions  of 
our  G  o  D  in  his  Works  of  Nature  and  Grace,  and 
tranfmit  the  Beams  of  his  Power  and  Love  to  enJiven 
and  to  comfort  our  dark  and  drooping  Spirits.  Wl^en 
we  are  brought  as  it  ivere  by  his  Spirit  into  his  Courts, 
the  Glory  of  the  Lord  will  fill  the  Houfe^  and  we  ftiall 
hear  him  Jpeaking  to  our  Souls.  The  Sun  of  Righteouf- 
nefs  will  {hine  into  our  Hearts :  All  the  Powers  of  out 
Nature  will  rejoyce  in  the  Light  of  his  Majefly,  and 
under  tlie  Rays  of  his  Mercy  :  We  freqiJent  his  Sanc- 
tuary  with  Dclight  to  behcll  the  Beauty  of  the  Lord 
therc^  to  feel  the  warm  Shiites  of  Divinc  Good- 
■iiefs,  and  partake  of  his  promifcd  Salvation,  Ezek- 
xliii.  5,  6.  Pfal.  xxvii.  4.  and  Ixiii.  2.  Bui  to  carry 
ihe  Similiiude  yetfurthery 

S  u  P  P  o  s  E  when  I  had  finifliM  this  Heathen  Tem- 
ple,  and  basked  there  with  Pleafure  under  the  Rays  of 
my  bright  Idol,  fome  fanciful  and  ingenious  Painter 
(hould  attempt  to  cover  the  Building  all  round  with 
his  own  Ornaments ;  fuppofe  Raphael  himfelf  fhould 
ufe  his  Pencil  with  exquifite  Art,  and  with  mingled 
Colours  and  Images  of  rich  Variety  and  Beauty,  over- 
fpread  all  the  Walls,  the  Doors,  and  the  tranfparent 
Roof  of  it :  How  would  this  feclude  the  Sun's  beft 
Influences,  and  fhut  this  Idol  Deity  out  of  his  owii 
Temple  ?  Nay,  tho'  the  Image  of  the  Sun  fhould  bc 
drawn  there  tenThoufand  times  over  in  Lines  of 

Gold, 


/;/  pROSE  ^;/<^  Verse.         47 

^jld,  with  a  Pretence  to  reprefent  him  in  all  his 
wondrous  Effedts,  yet  every  Line  will  forbid  the  En- 
trance  of  a  Sun-beam,  and  the  Worfhipper  within 
muft  dwell  inTwilight,  or  perhaps  adore  in  Dark- 
nefs  ;  he  muft  lofe  the  true  Sight  of  iiis  Planctary 
God,  and  the  Benefit  of  his  chearing  Beams,  Not 
the  richeft  Skill  of  a  Zeuxis  or  ApeUes  beautifying  the 
Walls  of  this  Fabrick,  could  ever  fupply  the  Abfence 
of  the  Sun,  or  compenfate  thc  Lof-;  of  Light  and 
Heat. 

S  u  c  H  are  the  Rites  and  Ceremonies  of  Hu- 
man  Wifdom,  when  they  are  contrived  as  Ornaments 
to  Divine  Worfhip.  A  facred  Inftitution  mingled 
with  the  Devices  of  Men,  is  in  truth  nothing  elfe 
but  Ghfs  darhied  ivith  the  Colours  of  a  Painter,  laid 
thick  upon  it.  Thefe  Inventions  may  appear  to  the 
Fancy,  not  onlv  grave  and  decent,  but  artiul  and  ho- 
nourable  too  ;  they  may  pretend  Afliftance  to  the  de- 
vout  Worfliipper,  and  Glory  to  G  o  d  himfelf :  But 
in  reality  they  exclude  him  from  his  own  Temple. 
Sometimes  they  Ihow  a  painted  Idol  in  the  ftead  or 
him,  for  nothing  can  effe6tually  reprefent  G  o  d,  but 
his  own  pure  Appointments  ;  and  fo  far  as  the  Orna- 
ments  prevail  above  the  ftmple  Ordinance,  they  pre- 
vent  all  the  kind  Influcnces  of  his  Power  and  Grace, 
for  he  vouchfafes  to  tranfmit  thcfe  no  otherway,  but 
through  his  own  Inftitutions.  When  the  Church  of 
Rome  honours  God  zvith  her  Lips,  and  her  FrleRsft  up 
their  Threfholds  by  tny  Thref.v^ds,    faitJi  the  Lord,  and 

their 


48  Mifcellaneous  Thonghts^ 

their  PoJJs  by  my  Pqfis^  they  kave  even  difled  my  holy 
Name  hy  their  Jbominations,  and  in  vain  do  they  worjlnp 
me^  teaching  for  DoSirines  the  Comniandments  cf  Men. 
Efa.  xxix.  I  3.  comp.  with  Matt.  xv.  8,  9.  and  Ezech. 
xliii.  8. 


xiir. 

The    M  I  D  N  I  G  H  T    E  L  E  \-  A  T  I  O  N. 

I. 

'VT  O  W  reigns  the  Night  in  Jier  fubliineft  Noon, 
Nature  lies  hufli'd  j  the  Stars  their  Watches  keep  i 
I  wait  thy  Influence,  gei>tle  Sleep, 
Come,  fhed  thy  choicert  Pcppies  down 
On  every  ^cnk,  fvveet  Slumbers  feal  my  Eyes, 
Tir'd  with  the  Scenes  of  Day,  with  painted  Vanities- 

IL 

In  vain  I  wifh,  in  vain  I  try 
To  clofe  my  Eyes,  and  learn  to  die ; 
Svveec  Slimbers  from  my  reftlefs  Pillow  fly : 
Then  be  ^ay  Thoughts  fercne  as  Day, 
Bs  fprightly  as  the  Light, 

Swift 


Swift  as  the  Sun's  far  fhooting  Ray, 
And  take  a  vigorous  Flight  : 
Swift  fly  my  Soul,  tranfcend  thefe  dusky  Skies, 

And  trace  the  vital  World  that  lies 

Beyond  thofe  glimmering  Fires  that  gild  and  cheer  the 

[Night. 
IIL 

Tlicre  J  E  su  s  reigns,  Adored  Name  i 

The  Second  on  theThrone  fupreme  : 

In  w^hofe  myfterious  Form  combinc 

Created  Glories  and  Divine  : 

The  Joy  and  Wonder  of  the  Realms  alx)ve  ; 

At  his  Command,  all  their  wing'd  Squadrons  mov^ 

Burn  with  his  Fire,  and  trijamph  in  his  Lo^'e. 

IV. 

Tliere  Souls  re]eas'd  fromEarth'3  dark  Bondage  llve 
My  Rcynolds  there,  witli  Howe  and  Boyk  are  found 
Not  Time  nor  Nature  could  their  Genius  bound, 

'     And  now  they  foar,  and  now  they  dive 
In  that  unlimitableDeep  whereThought  itfelf  is  dro7/n'd. 

They  aid  the  Seraphs  while  they  fmg, 

GoD  is  their  unexhaufted  Theme  j 
Light,  Life  and  Joy  from  that  immortal  Spring 
O'erflow  the  blefled  Millions  with  an  endiefs  Stream. 

Amazing  State  !  Divine  Abode  ! 
Where  Spirits  find  Uieii  Heaven  while  they  are  loft  in 

[G  0  D. 

D  V.  Hail, 


5*0         Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts, 

V. 

Hail,  holy  Souls,  no  more  confin'd 

To  Limbs  and  Bones  that  clog  the  Mind, 

Ye  have  efcap'd  the  Snares,  and  left  the  Chains  behind. 
We  wretched  Prifoners  here  below, 
What  do  we  fee,  or  learn,  or  know, 

3ut  Scenes  of  various  Folly,  Guilt  and  Woe  ? 

Life's  buzzing  Sounds  and  flatt'ring  Colours  play 
Round  our  fond  Senfe,  and  wafte  the  Day, 

Enchant  the  Fancy,  vex  the  labouring  Soul  j 
Each  rifmg  Sun,  each  lightfome  Hour, 

Beholds  the  bufy  Slavery  we  endure  ; 

Nor  is  our  Freedom  full,  or  Contemplation  pure, 

When  Night  and  facred  Silence  overfpread  the  Pole. 

VI. 

Reymlds^  thou  late  afcended  Mind, 

EfflpIoy'd  in  various  Thought  and  tuneful  Song, 
What  happy  Moment  fhall  my  Soul  unbind, 

And  bid  me  join  th'  harmoniousThrong  ? 

Oh  for  a  Wing  to  rife  to  thee ! 
When  fhall  my  Eyes  thofe  heavenly  Wonders  fee  ? 
When  fliall  I  tafte  thofe  Conforts  wich  an  Ear  refin'd  ? 

vn. 

RoII  bn  apace,  ye  Spheres  fublime, 
Swift  drive  thy  Chariot  round,  Illuftrious  Moon, 
Hafte,  all  ye  twinkling  Meafurefs  of  Time, 

Ye  can't  fulfil  your  Courfe  too  foon. 

Kindle 


iu  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.         $i 

Kindle  my  languid  Powers,  Celeftial  Love, 

Pointall  myPafTions  to  the  Courts  above, 

Then  fend  the  Convoy  down  to  guard  my  laftRemove, 

VIII. 
Thrice  happy  World,  where  gilded  Toys 
Nomoredifturbour  Tlioughts,  no  morepolluteour  Joys! 

There  Light  and  Shade  fucceed  no  raore  by  turns, 
There  reigns  th'  Eternal  Sun  with  an  unclouded  Ray, 
There  all  is  calm  is  Night,  yet  all  immortal  Day, 

And  Truth  for  ever  fliines,  andLove  for  cver  burns. 


/ 


XIV. 

The  Honourable  Magistrate. 

l^V I D  O  was  a  Man  of  a  inrewd  Underftanding, 
but  had  fo  much  Ill-humour  in  his'  Make,  that  he 
could  fpeak  well  of  no  Body  :  Yet  there  once  happen'd 
an  Incident  in  Converfation,  that  betray'd  him,  with- 
out  thinking,  into  a  Good-natur'd  Truth  ;  and  even 
while  he  was  pradlifing  his  own  malicious  Temper,  he 
was  furprized  into  the  Acknowledgment  of  fuperior 
Worth,  and  paid  a  noble  Teftlmony  to  Virtue. 

The  Story  was  this. 
A  Fr  I  E  N  D  of  minc  had  drawn  up  the  Charac- 
ter  of  an  excellent  Magiftrate,  where,  amongother  ad- 
mirable  Qualifications,  tliefe  were  inferted. 

D  2  __  «  Hc 


52^         Mifcellaneous  Thotights, 

— —  **  H  E  never  aimed  at  Superiority  over  J-hs 
*'  Neighbours,  tho'  by  the  Bounty  of  Providence  he 
<'  grew  richer  than  they  :  He  had  the  univerfal  Re- 
**  fpe6l  due  to  Goodnefs,  long  before  he  was  inade 
"  Great  ;  and  when  his  Fellow-Citizens  voted  him 
"  into  Power  and  Honour,  he  furvey'd  the  Province 
*'  with  a  jull  Reluftance,  and  fhrunk  away  from 
*'  Grandeur  ;  nor  could  any  thing  overcome  his  fm- 
"  cere  Averfion,  but  a  Senfe  of  Duty,  and  Hopes  of 
"  publick  Service. 

"  He  pafTed  through  the  chief  Offices  of  the  City, 
**■  and  left  a  Luftre  upon  them  by  the  Pradice  of  fuch 
*'  Virtue  and  fuch  Piety  as  the  Chair  of  Honour 
"  has  feldom  known  :  Thofe  who  have  "  attended 
^'  that  Court  fince  the  Year  of  his .  Magiflra- 
"  cy  fearch  the  Regifter  backward  for  twenty 
"  annual  SuccefHons,  and  confefs  he  has  had  no 
"  Rival. 

"  W  H  I  L  E  he  flood  in  that  Eminence,  he  furvey'd 
"  the  whole  Nation,  took  a  juft  View  of  irs  Wants 
"  and  its  Dangers  ;  and  by  the  divine  Blefling 
"  (which  his  daily  Retirements  engaged  on  his  fide)  he 
"  fecured  the  Nation's  beft  Intereft,  the  Exclufion  of 
"  a  Child  of  Rnme  from  the  Throne  oi  E?igland,  and 
"  the  Succeftion  of  a  Proteftant  Government.  At 
"  the  appointed  Seafon  he  refigned  with  Pleafure  the 
"  Fatigues   of  Power,  the  tirefome  Hours  of  State, 

«  and 


"  and  the  tedious  Train  of  Pomp  and  Equipage  ;  but 
«  he  daily  fiilfils  the  Duties  of  fubordinate  Authority 
"  to  the  Terror  of  Vice,  to  the  Support  of  the  Good, 
"  and  to  the  Reformation  of  a  fmfiu  Land.  He  vin- 
'•  dicates  the  Poor  with  Courage,  againft  the  Oppref- 
"  fion  of  the  Mighty,  and  fends  gay  Criminals  to  the 
**  Place  of  Correclion  :  He  puts  the  rich  Offenders 
"  to  publick  Shame,  as  well  as  the  Poor,  and  he 
"  doth  it  with  a  noble  Security  of  Soul  :  So  fpotlefs  a 
"  Charafter  fears  no  Recriminations. 

"  W  H  E  N  the  Days  of  publick  Shew  and  Proccf- 
*'  fion  return,  he  hides  himfelf  often  at  his  Country- 
"  Seat,  and  makes  every  trifling  Obftacle  a  fjfficicnt 
"  Excufe  for  his  Abfence  from  Honours,  Scarkt  and 
**  Gold  :  But  none  (o  zealous  and  conftant  in  their 
**  Attendance  on  the  Hours  of  Bufinefs  ;  and  at  the" 
**  Honourable  Board,  there  is  no  Seat  empty  fo  fel- 
"  dom  as  his.  Neither  Gain  nor  Diverfion  cau 
*'  tempt  him  afide,  when  the  Duty  of  his  Poft  re- 
**  quires  his  Prefence,  and  the  Publick  Weal  demands 
**  Jiis  Counfels,  His  Health,  his  Eafc  and  his  Eftate 
*'  are  at  the  Call  of  his  Country  j  his  Life  lies  ready 
*'  too  for  the  farae  Service  ;  but  his  Nation  gives 
'*  Thanks  to  Providence  that  has  not  demanded  the 
*'  precious  Sacrifice. 

**  H  E  has  no  fpreading  Dimenfions  nor  lofty  Ad- 

**  vantages   of  Staturc,  whence  he  might  look  down 

*'  upon  the  Multitudc,  and  command  them  into  Re- 

D  3  **  verence  3 


S4-         Mifcellaneotis  Thoughts, 

"  verence;   but  fuch  unb]emiih'd  Virtue  has  Grandeur 

"  and  Majefty  in  it,  and  fpreads  Fear  and  Refpedl  a- 

*'  round.     When  he  goes  out  u  the  Gate  through  the 

"  Ciiyy  he  neither  wears  nor  needs  the  Enfigns  of 

"  Honour  about   him,  nor  Attendants  to  follow  him 

"  in  the  Street ;  the  vain  ycmig  Men  fie  him  arui  hide 

"  thcfnfelves ;  the  aged  arifs  andjland  up  ;  ivhen  the  Ear 

"  hearshim^  then  it  blejjes  him;  the  Eye  that  fies  him 

*'  gives  witJiefi   to  him  \    hecaufi  he  has  delivered  the 

"  difirejfed  Soul  that  cried^  he   has    relieyed  the  Fathcr- 

"  lefis^  and  him  that  had  7ione  to  help.     The  Bkjfimg  ofi 
"  thofi  that  are  ready  to  perijh  com.es  daily  upon  him^  and 

"  he  caufies  the  WidovSs  Heart  to  fimg  fior  Joyj    He  is  a 

"  Faiher  to  the  Poor^  and  ihe  Caufie  whichhe  knows  not  he 

"  fiearches  out ;  he  hreaks  the  Jaws  cf  the  IVichd^  and 

"  plucks  the  Spoil  cut  oftheir  Teeth,  Job  xxix. 

"  T  H  E  vileft  Wretches  of  the  Earth  cannot  but  love 
"  the  Man,  while  they  hate  tlie  reforming  Magiiirate. 
"  Not  the  united  Malice  of  his  worft  Enemies  canfind 
"  any  Occafion  againji  him,  biit  concerning  the  Laiv  ofi  his 
"  God ;  and  were  it  not  upon  that  Account,  he 
"  wouid  have  no  Enemies  at  all. 

"  T  H  E-  World  wonders  and  enquires,  Whence  all 
«*  thefe  Accomplifhments  !  How  did  this  Man  arrive 
*'  at  this  true  Greatnefs,  and  all  thefe  uncommon 
"  Excellencies  ?  Thofe  who  are  his  Intimates  know 
"  the  Spring  of  them.  He  makes  the  Word  of  G  o  d 
*<  his  daily  Counfellor,  and  he  feeks  Diredlions  from 

"  Heaven 


I 


in  Prose  and  Verse.'         ^$ 

"■  Heaven- in  all  his  AfFairs  on  Earth  :  He  reads  the 

*'  Examples  of  Ddniel  and  Job  m  his  Bible,  and  joins 

**  them  together  in  his  own  Practice  ;  for  he  thinks 

*'  one  of  them  alone  too  little  for  a  Chriftian. 

^V"  H  E  N  I  had  rea:i  this  in  a  Room  where  Invhb 
wjis  prefcnt,  one  of  tlic  Company  commended  the 
Ingenuity  of  my  Frieiui  in  drawing  up  fo  fair,  fo  di- 
vine  a  Charadler.  Some  of  them  gave  it  as  their  Opi- 
nion,  that  the  Excellencies  and  good  Qualities  were 
fet  too  thick  togethcr,  and  that  there  was  no  fuch 
Perfon  in  Nature,  therefore  it  muft  be  the  mere  Work 
of  Fancy  :  Thcy  confefsM  it  was  well  imagin'd  in- 
deed,  'twaa  a  fine  Pi<^ure,  but  there  was  no  fuch  Ori- 
giiial. 

Invido  had  no  longer  Patience  to  hear  fuch  Compli- 
ments  pafa'd  on  theVVriter  ;  but  with  his  ufual  eager- 
nefs,  "  Your  Friend  ffaid  he)  was  never  capable  of 
"  compofing  fuch  a  Picce  3  there  is  not  a  Line  of  it 
*'  ov.-ing  to  his  own  Invention,  for  the  whole  Cha- 
"  rafter  is  a  mereCopy.  This  Friend  of  yours  hash\»ed 
"  fcme  Years  in  Mi.wsh  Family,  and  has  only  ftole 
"  hisPidure. 

Yo  u  are  much  in  the  right,  Invido ;  it  was  fo  de- 
figned;  and  I  am  glad  theFeatures  are  fo  well  touch'd, 
and  the  Likenefs  fo  finely  preferved,  that  a  Man  of 
yourTemper  fliould  confcnt  to  knowthePicce,  fhould 
name  the  Original,  and  confefs  the  Likenefs. 

I>  4  Ha  ppy 


^6         MifcellaJteotis  Tboughts, 


H  A  P  P  Y  Jihimis,  and  favoured  of  Heaven  beyond 
the  common  rate  even  of  the  bcft  of  Men,  when  Envy 
itfelf  is  conftrain'd  to  pay  publick  Honours  to  his 
Merit. 


XV. 
j^  Lesson  ^/Humility. 

TT  O  W  vain  a  thing  is  Man  !  How  ready  to  be 
puff'd  up  with  every  Breath  of  Applaufe,  and  to 
forget  that  lie  is  a  Creature,  and  a  Sinner  !  He  that 
can  bear  to  be  furrounded  v  iih  Approbations  and  Ho- 
nours,  and  yct  keep  the  fame  Air  and  Countenance 
witlvout  fweiling  a  little  at  Heart,  hath  pafs'd  an  Hour 
of  Temptation,  and  come  off  Conqueror.  Js  the  Fi- 
ning-p:tfor  Silver,  and  the  Funiacefor  Gold,  fo  is  a  Man 
to  his  Praife,  Prov.  xxvii.  2 1 . 

Eudoxus  is  a  Gentleman  of  exalted  Virtue,  and  un- 
ftained  Rcputation  :  Every  Soul  that  knows  him, 
fpeaks  well  of  him  ;  he  is  fo  much  honoured,  and  fo 
wej  beioved  in  his  Nation,  that  he  muft  flee  his  Country 
if  1-ie  wou'd  avoid  Praifes.  So  fenfible  is  he  of  the  fecret 
Pride  tliat  has  tainted  Human  Nature,  that  he  holds  him- 
felf  in  perpetualDanger,  and  maintains  an  everlafting 
Watch.    He  behaves  now  with  the  fame  Modefty,  as 

when 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V e  r  s  e.        57 

when  he  was  unknown  and  obfcure.  He  recelves  the 
Acclamationsof  theWorldwith  fuchan  humbleMien, 
and  with  fuch  an  indifFerence  of  Spirit,  that  is  truly 
admirable  and  divine.  'Tis  a  lovely  Pattern,  but  th^ 
Imitation  is  not  eafy. 

I  took  the  Freedom  one  Day  to  ask  him,  How  hc 
acquir'd  this  wondrous  Humility,  or  whether  he  was 
born  with  no  Pride  about  him  ?  "  Ah,  no,  (faid  he, 
**  with  a  facred  Sigh)  I  feel  the  working  Poifon,  but 
"  I  keep  my  Antidote  athand  ;  when  my  Friendstell 
**  mie  of  many  good  QuaHties  and  Talents,  I  have 
^*'  learnt  from  St.  Paul  to  fay,  If^oat  have  I  that  I  have 
"  not  received  ?  My  own  Confcioufnefs  of  many  Fol- 
**  Ires  and  Sins  conftrains  me  to  add,  What  havc  Ithat 
**  /  have  not  7nifimprov\i  ?  And  then  Reafon  and  Reli- 
*'  gion  joyn  together*to  fupprefs  my  Vanitv,  andteach 
"  me  the  proper  Language  of  a  Crea^jre  and  a  Sin» 
**  ner>  IVhat  then  havc  I  to  ghy  iw? 
1716. 


xvr. 

7he  Waste  ofhi^  E. 

^.V£  RGUS  was  a  young  Gcntleman  of  a  good 

Ffete,  he  was  bred   to   no  Bufmefs,.  and  could 

not  contri^'e  how  to  wafle  his  Hours  agreeably  ;  he 

iiad  no  Relifli  for  any  of  the  proper  Works  of  Life, 

^  S  J]nr 


5-8      •    Mtfcellaneoits  Thoughts, 

nor  any  Tafle  at  all  for  the  Improvenients  of  the  Mincf 
he  fpent  gener-ally  ten  Hours  of  the  four  and  twenty 
in  his  Bed  j  he  doz'd  away  two  or  three  more  on  his 
Couch,  and  as  many  were  diflblved  in  good  Liqour 
every  Evening,  if  he  met  with  Company  of  his  own 
Huniour.  Five  or  fix  of  the  reft  he  fauntered  away 
"with  much  Indolence  :  The  chief  Bufmefs  of  them 
was  tocontrive  his  Meals,  and  to  feed  his  Fancy  be- 
fore-hand  with  the  Promife  of  a  Dinner  and  a  Supper ; 
not  that  he  was  fo  very  a  Glutton,  or  fo  entirely  de- 
voted  to  Appetite  ;  but  chiefly  becaufe  he  knew  not 
how  to  employ  his  Thoughts  better,  he  let  'em  rove 
about  the  Suftenance  of  his  Body.  Thus  he  had  made 
a  Shift  to  wear  off'  ten  Years  fince  the  Paternal  Eftate 
4-11  into  his  Hands :  And  yet  according  to  the  Abufe 
of  Words  in  our  Day,  he  was  caird  a  Man  of  Virtue, 
becaufe  he  fcarce  ever  was  known  to  be  quitc  drunk, 
nor  was  his  Nature  much  inclin'd  to  Lewdnefs. 

O  N  E  Evening  as  he  was  mufing  alone,  his 
Thoughts  happened  to  take  a  moft  unufual  Turn,  for 
t\-\ty  caft  a  Glance  backward,  and  began  to  refledl  on 
liis  manner  cf  Life.  He  bethought  himfelf  what  a 
Ni:mber  of  Livino-  Beinfrs  had  becn  made  a  Sacrifice  to 

O  O 

fupport  his  Carcafs,  and   how  much  Corn  and  Wine 

Jir.d  becn  raingled  with  thofe  OfFerings.     He  had  not 

-quiteloft  all  the  Arithmetick  that  he  Iearn'd  when  he 

was  a  Boy,  and  he  fet  himfelf  to  compute  what  he 


iiad  devoured  fince  he  canie  to  the  Age  of  Man. 


L 


A  B  0  V  E 


I 


in  P  R  o  s  £  aud.  V  e  r  s  e.         59 

"  A  B  o  V  E  a  dozen  feather'd  Creatures,  fmall  and 
*'  great,  have  one  Week  with  another  (faid  he)  given 
*'  up  their  Lives  to  prolong  mine,  vi^hich  in  ten  Years 
*'  Time  amounts  to  at  leaft  Six  Thoufand. 

*'  FiFTY  Sheep  have  been  facrificed  in  aYear,  Vi^ith 

''  half  a  Hecatomb  of  Black  Catte],  that   I    might 

*'  have  the  choiceft  Part  cfFered  Weekly  upon  my 

"  Table.     Thus  a  Thoufand  Beafts  out  of  the  Flock 

*'  and  the  Herd  have  been  fiain  in  ten  Years  Time  to 

"  feed  me,  befides  what   the  Forreft  and   the  Park 

"  have  fupply'd  me  with,     Many  Hundreds  of  Fifties 

"  have  in  all  their  Varieties,  been  robb'd  of  Life  for 

*'  my  Repaft,  and  of  tlie  fmalJer  Fry  as  many  Thou- 

*'  fands. 

"A  Measure  of  Corn  would  hardly  affbrd 
"  fine  Flour  enough  for  a  Month's  Provifton,  and 
"  this  arifes  to  above  Sixfcore  Bufhels  ;  and  many 
"  Hcgfheads  of  Ale  and  Wir,e,  and  other  Liqours, 
"  have  paffed  through  this  Body  of  mine,  this  wretched 
'*  Strainer  of  Meat  and  Drink. 

"  A  N  D  what  have  I  done  all  this  Time  for  G  o  d 
"  or  Man  ?  Wiiat  a  vaft  Profufion  of  crood  TJiin^s 
"  upon  an  ufelefs  Life,  and  a  worthlefs  Li\er  ? 
"  There  is  not  the  meaneft  Creature  among  all  thefe 
'*  whicli  I  have  devoured,  but  hath  anfwer'd  the  End 
"  of  its  Creation  bettcr  than   l.     'Twas  made  Xo 

"  fupport 


^o  Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

"  fupport  Human  Nature,  and  it  hath  done  fo. 
*'  Every  Shrimp  and  Oyfter  I  have  eat,  and  every 
"  Graln  of  Corn  I  have  devoured,  hath  filled  up  it's 
"  Place  in  the  Rank  of  Beings  with  more  Propriety 
"  and  Honour  than  I  have  done :  O  Ihameflil  Wafte 
V-  of  Life  and  Time  ! 

I N  fhort,  he  carried  on  his  moral  Reficclions  with 
fo  juft  and  fevere  a  Force  of  Reafon,  as  conftrain^d 
him  to  change  his  whole  Courfe  of  Life,  to  break  ofF 
his  FoUies  at  once,  and  to  apply  himfelf  to  gain  fome 
ufeful  Knowledge,  when  he  was  more  thanThirty 
Years  of  Age  :  He  livcd  many  following  Years,  with 
the  Charafter  of  a  worthy  Man,  and  an  excellent 
Chriftian  ;  he  perform'd  the  kind  Offices  of  a  good 
Neighbour  at  home,  and  made  a  fhining  Figure  as  a 
Patriot  in  the  Senate-Houfe ;  he  died  with  a  peaceful 
Confcience  in  the  Falth  and  Hope  of  the  Gofpel,  and 
the  Tears  of  his  Country  were  dropped  upon  his 
Tomb.  • 

T  H  E  World,  that  knew  the  whole  Series  of  hfs 
Life,  ftcod  amazed  at  the  mighty  Change :  They  be- 
held  him  as  a  Wonder  of  Reformation,  while  he 
himfelf  confefs'd  and  ador'd  the  Divine  Power  and 
Mcrcy,  v/hich  had  transform'd  him  from  a  Brutc  to 
a  Man. 

B  u  T  this  was  a  fingle  Inftance ;  and  we  may 
almoft  venture  to  write  M  i  R  a  c  l  e  upon  it.     Are 

therc 


i^ 


in  pROSE  and  Verse.         6i 

there  not  large  Numbers  of  both  Sexes  among  our 
young  Gentr}',  and  among  the  Families  of  Quality, 
in  a  dcgenerate  Age,  whofe  Lives  thus  run  to  utter 
Wafle,  without  the  leaft  Tendency  to  Ufefuh-iefs  and 
Reformation,  and  with  a  Scorn  of  all  Repen- 
tance  ? 

W  H  E  N  I  meet  with  Pcrfons  of  fuch  a  worth- 
lefs  Chara^Sler  as  this,  it  brfngs  to  my  Mind  fome 
Scraps  of  Horacc^ 

Nos  m?nerus  fumus,  &  fruges  tonfumere  nati, 

—  Alcinoique  fuventus 

Cui  pulchrum  fuit  in  Mcdios  dormire  dies,  Sic. 

Paraphrase. 

There   are  a  Number  of  us  creep 
Into   this  WorlJ,    to   eat  and  fleep  ; 
And  know  no  Reafon  why  they're  born, 
But  merely  to   confume  the    Corn, 
Devour  the  Cattle,  Fowl   and    Fifh, 
And   leave   bchind  an  empty  Difli  : 
The   Crows   and  Ravens  do  the  fame, 
Unlucky  Birds  of  hateflil  Name  ; 
Ravcns  or  Crows   might  fill  their  Place, 
And   fwallow    Corn   and   CarcafTes. 
Then,  if  their  Tomb-flone  when  they  die, 
Ben'c  taught   to   flatter  and  to  lye, 

Tkre*s 


6z  MtfceUaneous  Thoughts, 

There's  nothing   better   will  be  faid,  ' 

Than  that   thefve  eat  up   all  their   Bread,  7 

Drank  up  their  Drink,  and  ggm  to  Bed.  j 

T  H  E  R  E   are   other  Fragments  of  that  Heathen 
Poet,    which  occur  on  fuch   Occarions  ;  one  in  the 
firft  of  his  Saty rs,  the  other  in  the  laft  of  his  Epiftles,  • 
which  feem   to   reprefent   Life  only  as  a  Seafon  of- 
Luxury. 


—  Exa^o  contentustempore  vitcs' 

Cedat  uti  conviva  fatur . 

Lujijii  fatis ,  edi/ii  fatis  (Uqute  hihijii ; 
Tetnpus  ahire  tibi,  ■ 

TVloich  may  he  thus  put  into  Englilh,  • 

Life's  but  a  Feaft  ;  and  when  we  die, 
Horace  would  fay,  if  he  were  by, 
Friend,  thou  haft  eat  and  drank  enough, . 
'Tis  Time  now  to  be  marching  off" : 
Then  hke  a  well-fed  Gueft  depart, 
With  cheerful  Looks,  and  Eafe  at  Heart ; 
Bid  all  your  Friends  Good  Night,  and  fay, 
y~ou\'e  done  the  Bufmefs  ofthe  Day. 

Reflection". 

Deluded  Souls !  that  facrihce 
Eternal  Hopcs  above  the  Skies, 
And  pour  their  Lives  out  all  in  Walle, 
To  the  vile  Idol  of  their  Tafte  ! 


The 


>. 


in  Prose  ^;^^  Verse.         (>3 

The  hlgheft  Heaven  of  their  Purfuit 
Is  to  live  equal  with  the  Brute  : 
Happy,  if  they  could  die  as  v/cll, 
Without  a  Judge,  wlthout  a  Hell  ! 


XVII. 

^  The  Table  Blefs'd. 

TT  O  W  do  we  upbraid  and  condemn  the  Romljlj 
Clergy  for  pretending  to  confecratc  the  Wafer  for 
all  thc  People,  by  muttering  a  i^vj  Latin  Words  over 
it,  which  they  canfiot  underftand  !  While  we  abhor 
the  Idolatry  of  the  Mafs,  yet  we  cannot  help  fmile- 
ing  at  the  filly  Superftition,  and  pity  the  Ignorance  of 
the  Multitude  :  They  believe  the  Bread  fufficlently 
confecrated  for  them  to  all  the  Purpofes  of  thelr  Sal- 
vation,  tho'  they  never  join'd  witlj  the  Prleft  in  at- 
tending  to  theWords  of  Blefling  :  Nor  indeed  was  it 
poflible  they  fhould  have  their  Hearts  engaged  in  that 
Part  of  the  Worfhip,  becaufe  it  was  perform'd  in  an 
unknown  Tongue.  Who  is  theje  among  us,  that. 
does  not  blame  and  rcprove  fo  abfurd  a  Pradlce  ?  And 
yet  we  imltate  the  fame  Folly  daily,  and  think  our- 
felves  unconcern'd  in  the  Reproof. 

Fornmlo  fays  Grace  conftantly  at  a  plentiful  Table, 
but  he  hurries  over  thc  Words  as  a  School-boy  docs 

his 


^4  Mlfcellaneoiis  Thoughts^ 

his  Lefibn,  and  he  whifpers  in  fo  low  a  Voice,  as^ 
tho'  he  were  muttering  fome  fecret  Charm  to  confe- 
crate  the  Difhes.  Does  he  think  it  fufficient  if  the 
Words  may  be  heard  in  Heaven,  while  the  Company 
in  the  Room  know  little  of  the  Matter,  and  the 
quickeft  Ears  can  diflinguiih  no  more  than  a  few 
broken  Syllables  ?  Yet  I  have  heard  tliis  Man  main- 
tain  a  fine  Argument  againft  PoplJ}}  Superftition  and 
the  Latin  Liturgy  :  I  have  heard  him  aflert  with  very 
good  Reafon,  that  no  Part  of  the  Bread  is  fandtified 
to  the  People  at  the  holy  Sacrament  by  all  the  Com- 
munion-Service,  where  the  Hearts  of  the  Communi- 
cants  are  abfent,  and  never  jo/n  with  the  Church  in 
her  Prayers  :  Then  why  will  not  Formulo  let  his 
Friends  at  the  Table  join  with  him  in  his  Graces  F  No 
wonder  that  the  Family  and  the  Guefts  ftare  about 
thoughtlefs,  and  fit  down  to  their  Food  without  a 
Blefling,  when  the  Lips  that  pronounce  it  do  not 
fuiTer  the  Blefllng  to  reach  their  Ears.  But  Chap- 
lains  are  not  the  only  Perfons  culpable  in  this  Mat- 
ter,  nor  are  they  always  to  blarae. 

Jfebm,  a  gay  Gentleman  of  one  and  fwenty,  was 
prefent  at  aTable  where  G  o  d  is  addrefs'd  in  a  more 
religious  Manner,  and  with  a  devout  and  becoming 
Solemnity.  He  fits  down  and  eats  heartily  j  he 
doubts  not  but  the  Food  is  fufiiciently  biefs'd  to  his 
Ufe,  tho'  he  neverraifed  hisThoughts  towards  Hea- 
ven,  nor  attended  at  all  while  the  good  Man  Screnus 
perform'd  hii  Oflige.     Jjebion  was  bufy  in  ih^  difpo- 


I 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.         6^ 

fal  of  his  Hat  and  Sword,  and  furveying  all  the  Faccs 
of  the  Company,  while  the  Blefling  of  Heaven  was 
fought  on  the  Food. 

H I  s  Sifter  Afcbhia,  a  pert  young  Creature  of  fifteerr, 
was  obferv'd  to  employ  that  Minute  in  drawing  off 
her  Gloves,  adjufting  her  Drefs,  giving  herfelf  Airs, 
and  preparing  for  her  Seat.  At  the  fame  time  there 
was  at  the  Table  a  pious  and  elder  Lady,  a  near  Rc- 
lation  of  theirs,  who  with  Griei'  obferv'd  the  carclefs 
Condu<£l  of  hcr  Niece  and  Nephew  ;  and  being  feat- 
ed  next  above  Jfebina,  fhe  had  the  Opportunitv  to 
whifper  a  gentle  Admonition,  '*  How  can  you  cxpect, 
"  Niece,  a  Blefling  on  your  Meat,  who  did  not  fo 
*'  much  as  lift  up  a  Thought  to  Go  d  to  ask  for  it  ?" 
Jfebim  reply'd  aloud,  with  an  Air  of  afTured  Ignorance, 
"  I  know  the  Chaplain  did  that  for  us  all  ■"  and  thus 
fhe  affedled  to  let  all  the  Company  know  that  fhe  re- 
ceived  a  fecret  Reproof,  and  defpifed  the  Reprover. 
Should  it  be  granted  here,  that  the  Admonition  was  a 
httle  ill-tim'd,  yet  it  is  certain  the  Reply  was  not  a 
little  infolent,  nor  a  little  irreligious. 

W  H I  L  E  we  were  eating,  one  of  the  Guefts  di- 
verted  the  Table  with  no  improper  Amufements;  he 
entertain'd  the  Company  with  agreeable  and  facetious 
Difcourfe,  but  flill  within  the  Rules  of  Religion  and 
Decency. 

The 


66  Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

T  H  E  Diflies  being  withdrawn,  and  theTableun- 
cover'd,  Serenus  ftood  iip  to  conclude  his  Oifice  j  Afe- 
hina  openM  her  SnufF-box,  and  regaPd  hcr  Nofe,  but 
AjebiGH  employ'd  himfelf  with  his  Tooth-pick,  and 
then  fet  himfelf  in  an  Attitude  to  Vv^ait  for,  the  Amen, 
that  he  might  make  his  Honours  gracefuUy  to  all 
the  Table. 

A  F  T  E  R  Diiiner  the  Converfation  turn'd  upon 
the  Subje£l  of  Saying  Grace  hefore  and  after  Meat. 
When  feveral  of  the.  Company  had  given  their 
Thoughts,  Serenm  acknowledged  it  was  not  neceflary 
to  offer  a  folemn  and  particular  Pctition  to  Heaven  on 
the  Occafion  of  every  bit  of  Bread  that  we  tafted,  or 
wlien  we  drank  a  Glafs  of  Wine  with  a  Friend  ;  nor 
was  it  expe£ted  we  fhould  make  a  focial  Prayer  when 
Perfons  each  for  themfelves  took  a  flight  Repaft  in  a 
running  manner ;  either  the  general  Morning  Devotion 
is  fuppofed  fufficient  to  recommend  fuch  tranfient  Kdii^- 
ons  and  Occurrences  to  the  divine  Bleiling,  or  a  fudden 
fecret  Wifli  fent  up  to  Heaven  in  Silence,  niight  an- 
fwer  fuch  a  Purpofe  in  the  Chriftian  Life  :  But  when 
a  whole  Family  fits  down  together  to  make  a  regular 
and  ftated  Meal,  'twas  his  Opinion,  that  the  great 
G  OD  ftiould  be  folemnly  acknowledged  as  the  Giver 
of  all  the  good  Things  we  enjoy  ;  and  the  Pradice  of 
our  Saviour  and  St.  Paiil  had  fet  us  an  illuftricus  Ex- 

ample. 

Afehion 


in  Prose  aridVEKsr,.         6j 


yifebion  had  not  yet  arrived  at  fuch  Impiety,  as  to 
pronounce  it  a  foolifti  and  fenfelcfs  Cufliom ;  but  he  de- 
clared  his  Sentiment  with  Freedom,  that  "  we  might 
*'  all  (hare  enough  in  the  Grace  that  was  faid  for  a 
"  Dinner,  without  putting  on  fuch  a  demure  Coun- 
'*  tenance,  and  fuch  grave  Airs,  as  if  we  were  at 
**  Church  in  the  midft  oi  DivineService. 

P  R  o  F  A  N  E  and   foolifli  Speech  !  but  'tis  hard  to 
fay^  v/hether  more  fooHfh  of  more  profane. 

T  E  L  L  me,  Afebicn^  is  our  addrefling  the  G  o  d 
of  Heaven  with  Prayer  and  Praife.at  Meals  no  part 
of  Divine  Service  ?    Is   G  o  d   ncvcr   worfhipped  but 
when  it  is  done  at  Church?  .Little  do  thefe  Creatures 
think  what  a  dangerous  thing  it  is  to  trifle  with  an  Al- 
mighty  Being,  even  in  the  fmallefl  A61  of  Worfhip  ! 
Did  the  great  God  evcr  appoint  Tooth-picks  to  be 
the  facred  tJtenfils  of  our  asking  a  BlefTing  on  Food  ? 
Or  is  a  Cloud  of  SnufF  the   Incenfe  that  mufl  afcend 
with  this  Prayer  ?  How  thoughtlefs  are  thefe  Mortals, 
and  how  unconcerned  about  the  ferious  and  important 
Things  of  Rehgion  !    They  behave  with  fuch  a   re- 
gardlefs  Air,  as  tho'  Grace  before  Mcat  were  a  needlefs 
old-fafhion'd  Ceremony  ;  as  tho'  it   were  enough  for 
the  Chaplain  to  worfhip  their  Maker  for  the  wholc 
Family,  or  that   v/hcn  they  fpeak  to  the  Majefly  of 
Heaven  for  a  BlefTing   on  their  Food,    there  was  no 
need  ofacompofcd  Countenance,  or  any  Shew  of  Bo- 

dily 


6B  Mtfcellaneous  ThoitghtSi 

dily  Reverence.  Yet  Jfebm  and  JlfeM?ia  every  Morn- 
ing  ask  their  Father's  Bleffing  on  their  Knees.  A-Ie- 
thinks,  I  would  ask  them,  IFhy  fo  falenmly  cn  your 
Kneesfor  your  Father's  Blefftng,  and  fo  utterly  negligent  of 
all  Solemriity  and  outward  Decencies,  ivhen  vou  feck  a 
Blefftng  frorn  God?' 

A  F  T  E  R  'I  had  virritten  this  Paper,  I  lent  it  to 
a  Friend,  who  put  it  into  the  Hands  of  Scdentius^  and 
dcfired  liim  to  read  it.  In  the  perufal  of  it,  he  ieem'd 
pleafed,  and  gratified  with  tiie  juft  Reproof  of  fuch 
Irreligion,  and  fhew'd  his  Satisfailion  by  an  approving 
Smile,  till  he  came  to  the  Clofe  j  there  he  paus'd  a 
httle,  and  a  grave  dejefled  Air  fpread  o\er  his  Coun- 
tenance  :  Well,  faid  he,  *'  I  hope  thcfe  3'oung  Gen- 
*'  try  will  learn  to  be  more  devout  while  the  Provi- 
'*  fions  of  the  Table  are  blefs*d,  but  I  take  my  Share 
'*  alfo  iH  the  Reproof  j.  nor  will  I  praftife  any  more 
"  Irreverence  for  time  to  come  in  thefe  domeftick  and 
"  daily  A<Ss  of  Worfhip :  I  and  my  Fathers  before  me 
**  have  fat  down  to  Meat  thefe  forty  Years,  and  ne- 
'*  ver  asked  a  BlefTmg  till  after  we  were  all  fcated  j 
'*  but  my  Children  fhall  learn  of  me  to  renounce  this 
*'  Rudenefs,  and  ihall  ftand  up  and  adore  the  G  o  d 
"  who  made  and  feeds  us,  nor  fhall  our  Seats  nor  our 
"  Confciences  upbraid  us  with  fuch  Indecency  in  our 
**  AddrefTes  to  the  Living  G  o  d. 

XVIII. 


in  Prose  andY^KSE.         6<) 


XVIII. 
Y  o  u  T  H   and  D  e  a  t  h. 

Tener  Vitulus  reJi^d 

Matre  qiti  largis  juve?iefcit  herbis    ■ 

In  mea  Vota  : 
Fronte  curvatos  imitatus  ignes 
Tertium  Luna  referentis  ortumy 
^id  notam  duxit  Jiivcus  videri, 

Cetera  fuhus. 

HoRAT.  Od.  2.  Lib.  IV. 

TTT*  H  I  L  E  we  read  thefe  Lines  oi Horace^  where- 
in  he  deicribes  his  young  Yellow  Calf  with 
the  white  Crefcent  in  his  Forehead,  while  he  paints 
out  the  pretty  Brute  in  meft  agreeable  Verfe,  one  is 
ready  to  feel  a  fort  of  fond  Pity  working  in  us,  when 
we  find  that  the  Creature  is  deftin'd  to  fpeedy  Sacrifice  : 
The  Poet  himfelf,  who  devotes  itsBlood  to  the  Altar, 
yet  feenis  to  dwell  with  a  fort  of  Compaffion  and 
mournful  Pleafure  on  the  Defcription  of  its  Beauty  and 
Sprightlinefs. 

A  Milk-white  Mark,  its  fpreading  Front  adorns, 
Shap'd  like  a  Moon  of  three  Days  old  : 

The  Silver  Curve  divides  its  budding  Horns, 
And  all  befides  is  Gold. 

The 


70  Mtfcellaneotis  Thoughts, 

The  pretty  Creature,  wild  in  wanton  Play,  .^ 

Now  frisks  about  the  flowry  Mead  ; 
Loofc  from  the  Dam,  it  knows  no  Grief  to  Day, 

But  muft  To-morrow  bleed. 

Wh  e  n  I  fee  the  Youth  of  either  Sex  arriv'd  at 
that  Age,  wherein  Nature  is  juft  rifen  to  its  Elegance  and 
Vigour,'and  when  they  begin  to  fhew  themfelves  to  the 
World,  my  Heart  pities  them,  as  (o  many  Borderers 
uponthe  Grave  ;  yet  moft  of  them  are  utterly  thought- 
lefs  of  dying.  Xittle  do  they  imagine  in  thofe  Years 
of  Gaiety,  Mirth,  and  Madnefs,  that  they  are  trea- 
furing  up  Vengeance  to  themfelves,  by  their  thought- 
lefs  Rebellion  againft  the  Power  that  made  them, 
Little  do  they  think  that  their  Lives  are  evcry  Mo- 
ment  due  to  the  Juftice  of  G  o  d  as  a  Sacrilice,  each 
for  their  own  Iniquity  :  Young  Creatures,  but  bold 
Sinners  !  They  are  wean'd  from  the  Nurfery,  they  are 
got  loofe  from  their  Parent's  Wing,  and,  like  the  Ro- 
»w?2  Poet's  Calf,  they  vainly  exult  and  riot  in  their- 
new  Freedom  ;  they  gad  abroad  in  the  wide  World, 
wanton  and  lavifti  in  all  the  Delights  which  the  Vi- 
gour  of  depraved  Nature  infpires.  They  know  not 
how  to  bear  the  Checks  of  Picty,  and  the  Reftjaints 
of  Wifdom,  nor  will  they  endure  the  tendereft  Admo- 
nitions  of  a  Parent  or  an  aged.  Friend.  They  have  no 
Apprehenfion  of  the  Angel  of  Death  near  them,  as 
tho'  it  was  beyond  the  Reach  of  his  Commiflion  or  the 
Flight  of  his  Arrows  to  fmite  any  of  their  Station  or 

Cha- 


r 

///  Pro  SE  ^//^  Verse.         yi 

CharacSter.      In  tlie  Morniiig   of    Nature  they   feel 
themfelves  live,  and  they  fancy  'tis  Immortality. 

EsPECiALLY  if  thcy  are  adorned  with  any 
peculiar  Charms  of  Wit  or  Beauty,  then  the  Flatteries 
of  the  Glafs,  and  their  ow^n  warm  Imagination,  the 
Complements  and  QirefTss  of  the  Company  that  attend 
them,  banifh  all  that  is  SoJemn  or  Serious :  Thc  en- 
chanting  Allurements  that  furround  their  Senfes,  rendei' 
them  deaf  to  all  the  Warnings  of  G  o  d  and  Confciencet 
and  thoughtlefs  of  every  thing  but  the  gay  Succeflions 
of  Pleafure.  The  Powers  of  Animal  Life  reign  in 
thcm  without  controul,  and  they  forget  there  is  a 
Soul  within  them,  or  a  G  o  d  above  them,  or  a  Tri- 
bunal  of  Judgment  at  which  they  muft  be  ar- 
raign'd. 

I  N  the  midfl  of  this  flowry  Scene,  Amelifiui  was 
feized  vvith  a  fudden  Fever  ;  in  three  Days  time  it  was 
heightened  into  a  raging  Dehrium,  which  gave  no 
room  for  any  Penitential  Refleclions  j  and  thus  \x\. 
the  Bloom  of  Nature,  and  full  of  the  Sins  of  his 
Youth,  he  was  furprized  into  Eternity :  He  feemed 
to  be  fingled  out  from  the  refl  of  his  wild  Aflbciates, 
and  made  a  Viilim  to  Death,  and  to  Divine  Difplea- 
fure.  A  loudAIarm  to  fecure  Sinners,  and  a  flaming 
Warning-Piece  to  the  Companions  of  his  Guilt  ! 

O  u  R  Natural  CompafTion  drops  fomc  Tears  of 
Humanity  on  the  Grave  of  fuch  a  fine  young  Gentle- 
man  j  but  the  Divine  Being  that  made  him,  is  not 

moved 


71  Mifcellaneous  Tboughts, 

moved  with  thofe  Prettinefles  of  Flefh  and  Blood, 
which  cngage  our  Senfes,  and  melt  our  Hearts  to 
Softnefs.  What  is  a  little  Rofe-colour'd  Skin  and 
well-fet  Limbs,  in  the  Eyes  of  that  Almighty  Power 
that  can  create  Millions  of  fuch  beautiful  Engines 
with  his  Breath,  and  deftroy  them  without  Lofs  ? 
Ten  Thoufand  gay  Worms  and  Ihining  Infefts  arife 
hourly  at  his  Command  in  a  Summer's-Day  :  But  if 
an  Infe6l  or  a  Worm  afFront  its  Maker,  our  own 
Reafon  would  fentence  it  to  immediate  Death. 

H  A  P  P  Y  were  fuch  a  Wretch  as  Amelijius.^  if  he 
had  been  a  mere  Animal,  and  had  nothing  in  him 
capable  of  Imniortahty.  Happy  had  he  been,  if  he 
were  a  Worm  or  a  Ihining  Infeft,  or  in  all  refpedls 
hke  that  pretty  young  Brute,  which  thePoet  defcribes  j 
then  the  Term  of  his  mortal  Life  would  have  finifh'd 
his  Exiftence  :  But  thc  Sin  of  Man  and  the  Juftice  of 
G  o  D  demand  the  Sacrifice  of  a  Soul  ;  his  Rebeliion 
arofe  againft  Heaven  ;  he  afFronted  the  infinite  Maje- 
fty  of  his  Creator,  and  fince  he  died  witiiout  Repen- 
tance,  the  Threatnings  of  the  Bible  doom  him  to 
everlafting  Punifhment.  Hcar  this,  young  Sinners, 
who  forget  God,  leji  he  tear  you  in  pieces,  and  there  k 
none  to  deliver  yon,  Pfal.  li. 


9 


8 


XIX. 


in  Prose  ^«^Verse.         75 


XIX. 

B  A B  Y L o  N  dejiroyd  ;   or  the  i^yth 
P  s  A  L  M  tranjlated. 

TT  A  D  Horace  or  Pindar  written  this  O  d  e,  it 
would  have  been  the  endlefs  Admiration  of  the 
Critick,  and  the  perpetual  Labour  of  RivalTranfla- 
tors  ;  but  'tis  found  in  the  Scripture,  and  that  gives  a 
fort  of  Difguft  to  an  Age  which  verges  too  much  to- 
ward  Infidelit}'.  I  could  wifh  the  Mufe  of  Air.  Pope 
would  chufc  out  fome  few  of  thefe  Pieces  of  facred  Pfal- 
fncdyy  which  carry  in  them  the  more  fprightly  Beau- 
ties  of  Poefy,  and  let  the  Englijh  Nation  know  what  a 
divine  Poet  fat  on  the  Throne  of  IfraeL  He  has 
taken  Homer'^  Rhapfodies,  and  turned  them  into  fine 
Verfe  and  agreeable  Entertainnoent ;  and  his  admira- 
ble  Imitation  of  the  Hebrew  Prophets,  in  his  Poem  cal- 
led  The  Meffiah,  convinces  us  abundantly,  how  capa- 
ble  he  is  of  fuch  a  Service.  This  particular  Pfahn 
could  not  well  be  converted  into  Cbri/iiamfy,  and 
therefore  it  appears  here  in  its  'Jeivif)  Form  :  Th.e 
Vengeance  denounced  againft  Babylen,  in  the  Clofe  o^ 
it,  fhall  be  executed  (faid  a  great  Divinej  upon  y/////- 
chriflian  Rome  ;  but  he  was  perfuaded  the  Turks  muft 
do  it,  for  Protefiant  Hearts,  faid  he,  have  too  much 
Compaftion  in  them  to  embrue  their  Hands  in  fuch  a 
bloody  axid  tcrriblt  Execution. 

E  Wh  £  K 


74  Mifcellaneous  Tljoughts, 

I. 

TT^HEN  by  the  flowing  Brooks  we  fat, 
The   Brooks  of  Bahyhn   the  Proud  5 
We  thought  on  Zm's  mournful  State, 
And  wept  her  Woes,  .and  waiPd  aloud. 

II. 

Thoughtlefs  of  every  chearful  Air, 

(For  Grief  had  all  our  Harps  unftrung) 

Our  Harps  neglecled  in  Defpair, 
.And  filent  on  the  Willowi  hung. 

III. 
-Our  Foes  who  made  our  Land  their  Spoil, 

Our  barbarous  Lords,  with  haughty  Tongues, 
Bid  us  forget  our  Gr.oans  a-while, 

And  give  a  Tafte  pf  Zien's  Songs, 

IV. 

How  fhall  we  fmg  in  Heathen  Lands 

Our  holy  Songs  to  Ears  profane  ? 
Lord,  fhall  our  Lips  at  their  Commandi 

Pronounce  thy  dreadful  Name  in  vain  ? 

V. 

Forbld   it   Heaven!    O    vile  Abufe ! 

ZioH  in  Duft   forbids   it   too  : 
Shall  Hymns  infpir'J  for  facred  Ufe 

JBe  fung  .  to  pleafe  a  fcoffing   Crevv  l 


VI.  o 


/;/  Prose  and  Verse.        75^ 

VI. 

O  let  myTongue  grow  dry,  and  cleavc 

Faft  to  my  Mouth  in  Silcnce  ftil], 
Let  fome  avenging  Powcr  bercave 

My  Fingers  of  their  tuneful  Skill, 

VIL 
If  I   thy  facred  Rites  profane, 

O  Salem,  or  thy  Duft  defpife  ; 
If  I  indulge  one  chearful  Strain, 

Till  I  lliall  fee  thy  Towers  arife. 

VIIL 

Twas  Edom  bid  the  conquering  Foe, 

Doivti  with  thy  Tovfrs^  and  raze  thy  Walh  : 
Requite  her,  Lord  :  But  Bal>ely  know, 
Thy  Guilt  for  fiercer  Vengeance  calls. 

IX. 

As   thou  haft   fpar'd   nor   Sex  nor  Age, 

Deaf  to  our  Infants  dying  Groans, 
May  fome  blefs'd   Hand,  infpir'd   with   Rage, 

Dalh  thy  young  Babes,  and  tinge  the  Stones, 


E  2  XX.  Ep 


y6  Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 


XX. 

Epitaphium  Monflri  cujufdam, 

Apud  A  N  G  L  o  s  vulgo  didli 

B    I    G    O   T   R  Y, 

Terras  &  Tenebris  mandati. 
Autorc  diu   incognito,    Viro    Ingeniofo  &  vere  Pio 

JOHANNE     ReYNOLDS^ 
I. 

7  JIC  jacft  ( femperque  jaceat  f  ) 
"*■  ■*"         Pietatis   Cadaver, 

Lnprobitatis  Corpus, 

Religionis   Larva, 
San^imoniiS  Hoftis  isf  Umbra, 
Divini  Imago  Zeli,  isf  Pe/iis, 
Ecclejia  Simia  fmul  ^  Lupus. 


n. 

Monftrum  horrendum,  informe,  ingm,  (ui  lumen  akmptum^ 
Romae  Antiqua  Natum, 
Nova  in  Tutelam  Acceptum, 
In  caligiwfs  Vaticani //i^'^/Vj 

i^umam 


m  P  R  o  s  E  af}d  V  e  r  s  e,        jj 


j^n  E  p  I T  A  p  H  on  B  I  G  O  T  R  Y, 

TranJIated  from  the  Latin, 
Whuh  zvas  written  by   the  late  Pims  and  Ing£)it9us 

Mr,  JoHN  Reynolds, 

And  inferted  in   the  O  cc  asi  or^  al   P  a  p  e  r> 

m  Ul  Kumk  6» 

I. 

TT  E  R  E  lies  f and  may  it  here  for  ever  lle ! ) 
■*"*■    The  Carcafsof  dead  Piety, 

Shadow  of  Grace,  fubftantial  Sin, 

Religious  Mask  and  gawdy  Drefs, 

Thc  Form  and  Foe  of  Holinefs, 
The  Image  and  the  Plague  of  Zeal  divine. 
It's  Dwelling  was  the  Church  i  in  ^ouble  Shape, 
Half  was  a  murdering  Wolf,  and  half  a  mimick  Apffi 

n. 

A  Monfter  horrid  to  the  Sight, 
Hideous,  deform'd,  and  void  of  Light  ; 
'Twas  born  at  Rme^ 
'Twas  nurs'd  at  Home, 
In  the  dark  CJoiftcrs  of  the  Vatican  j 

E  3  1% 


7^  Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

Humano  Smguine  ijf  Pulven  Pyrio 
Nutritum^  SaginatMrh 


IIJ. 

HiipanicJE  Ditisnis  Incjolc^ 
GaHicis  deinds  ki^idnibm  Hofpci- 

J(vn  dudum  Gratijjifnm '^ 
Viteris  quidm,  Noviqus  'Orbis^ 
Hunwii  Gmris  U  Cmmodt  mfi 

Pertgrimov  ajfukm  i 


IV. 

Lhigucmm  utpotg  qmrumcunqug  PmtuSf 
Sexus  itidem  utriufqmParticeps, 
Mentium  llluminator  FlammeuSy 
Acutijfimus  Dubitantium  Du^or^, 
^i  LaqueiSy  enfibus,  incendiifque, 
rulu£tantiwn  Anmarum  Catervas 
Fe/finas  in   Coelum  Amandaty 
Celerrimus  Orbis  Converfor. 
Confpirationum  Exitialium, 
Verarum  pariter  ac  Simulatm-um 
(  Mdi  revera  Machinarum   infandi ) 
Ariifex  dexterrimus. 


V^  Ecclejia 


m 


Prose  and  Vers^e.         79 


Its  Lungs  infpirM  with  heaving  Lyes, 
Its  Bulk  well  fatten'd  to  prodigious  Size 
With  Gun-Powder  and  Blood  ofMan. 

irr. 

Ancient  Inhabitant  of  Spaiti, 

And  long  in  France  a  welcome  Gueft  j 
Overthe  Continent  and  Main, 
Over  the  Old  World  and  the  New, 
Mankind  and  Money  to  purfue, 
On  Dragon^^s  Wings  the  Harpy  fiew, 
And  gave  its  Feet  no  Reft. 

IV. 

AU  Languages  the  Fury  fpake, 

And  did  of  either  Scx  partake : 

Flaming;  Enlightner  of  the  Mind, 

And  headlong  Liader  of  the  Blind, 
Oft  has  it  dragg'd  the  doubtful  Tongue  to  fpeak, 
While  the  pain'd  Confcience  left  the  Truth  behind. 
By  Gibbet,    Sword  and  Fire, 

It  made  whole  Tribes  of  Men  expire  ; 
And  to  the  Skies  their  groani»g  Ghofts  it  iiurlVly 

A  fwift  Converter  of  the  World. 

Dextrous  in  all  the  Arts  of  Blood  ; 

Skiird  to  contrive  or  counterfeit 

Myftepious  Mifchief,  Plotts  of  Statc, 
Thofe  murderous  Engines  to  deftroy  the  Good. 

The  Mufe  here  tireirig,  begs  ihe  Reader's  Leave  U  relcafe 
berfelf  from  the  BorJs  and  Lahours  of  Rhyme  and  Me- 

E  4  tre 


8o         Mifcellaneoiis  ThonghtSy 


V. 

Ecclefus  fub  nomine  &  cultu, 
Suh  pelle  Ovina  &  Fultu^ 

Libertatis  penith  Ecclefiaficcs^ 
Commercii  pene  CiviliSj 
Ac  Societatis  Humana 

hdmiius  Vafator  ^  Pradc, 

VI. 

Jruius  PoHtiSi  PoHticifque, 
Critices  nexibus,  Logicaque  flrophis^ 

Calarnorum^  Linguaque  telis, 
Conciliorum,  Ca?io?mmque  Bombardis, 
Caierfque  Gentis  togata  Armammtis 

Bellator  Infiru^ijfirnus, 


VII. 

Cui  F?mr,    ac  Odium,    ac  Nefas, 
Fafufque  ac  feculi  A?nor, 
Perjuria,  Piaque  Fraudes, 

Truculenta  Partium  fhidia, 

Implicita  fidei,  Tyrannidijque, 
Obfequii  proinde  Pajfivi, 

Jgnora?itia  ac  Moria  Enco?nia 
Cemites  fuerunt  Sok?ines., 


VIII.  Cut 


m 


Prose  audY-EK^t.        8r 


'■'•e,  by  a  mere  hnitatm  of  the  next  Thirty  Lhus  in- 

Pro/e. 

V. 
Under  the  Name  and  Habit  of  tlie  Church, 
Underthe  Countenancc  and  Ciothing  of  a  Shcei">j 

It  became  the  moft  favage  and  rampant 
Plunderer  and  Wafter  of  human  Societr, 
Made  fearful  Inroads  on  all  civil  Commsrce, 
And  left  religious  Liberty  expirijig. 

VI. 

A  Warrior  well  furnifh'd 
With  all  Arts  Politick  andPolite, 
With  the  knotty  Embaraflbients  of  Cnticifrnj 
The  hampering  Chains  andSubtiltiesofLogick, 

And  the  Javelins  of  Pen  and  Tongue, 
With  the  roaring  Ordinance  of  Councils  and  Canons,- 
And  all  the  Artillery  of  the  Schools  and  Gown-. 

vn. 

Fury,  Hatred  and  Mlfchief, 
Loveof  this  World,  -Prideand  Difdain, 
With  Pcrjuries,  Falihoods,   and  pious  Fraud^,,. 

And  raging  Part)'-Zeal, 
Were  iis  neceflary  and  everlafting  Attendants. 

High  Encomiums  and  cndlefs  Applaufe 
Of  Guides  infallible  and  Faith  implicit, 

Of  hereditary  and  divine  Right, 
Of  Unlimited  Power  and  Paflive  Obedience 

To  Tyrant  Priefts  and  Kings, 
With  the  wimortal  Praife  and  Merit 

E  5  Oi 


tz         Mifcellaneous  ThoughtSy 


VIII. 

Cui  Nuga^  Trkaque  CaUtida, 
^ifquilia,  Dira,  Exequiaque 
Bidla  minantes,  &  bruta  Fulmina^. 
Vota  facrilega,  ac  Legeyida, 
Jecur  Theologicwn,  Bilifque 

Afpera  aque  ac  atra, 
Fofiipa  Theatrales,  Ritufque 
Obfokti  funul  ^  decentes, 
Cordi  fuere  ^  Cibg*. 


IX. 

Qrdinis  ut  phirhnum  ClericaUsy 
Gregis  potiffmiim   Loyolitici 
Qlmgregationis  praterea  Veneranda 
De  propagandd  per  orbem  fide,, 
Coccinatus  Antijies, 


X.  Nobilifjha. 


^f  ftupid  Ignorance,  and  blind  Submiffion, 
Were  Hcrald^  to  prepare  its  Way. 

viir! 

Trifles,  and  Trlcks,  and  lolcina  Fooiei"    „ 

Legends  and  filly  Tales, 
Old  Almanacks,  and  uiouldy  mufty,  Rell^ues,  r 

Sweepings  of  ancient  Tombs,  . 
Vows,   PiJgrimages,   Charms  and  Confecrations, 
Rites  Obfolete,  and  Novel  Ceremonies 

Both  decent  and  indecent, 
Monkifh  and  Superftitious  Aufterities, 
With  Words  of  Sacerdotal  Abfolution, 

And  Sacerdotal  Vengeance, 
Squibs,  Crackers,  Excommunications,  Curfes, 

Roaring  BuUs  and  vain  Thunders, 
Mixt  up  with  Prieftly  Choler,  bitter  and  black, 

V\^ere  its  delicious  Food. 

[Ngw  Metre  and  Rhyme  proceed,'] 

IX. 
A  purple  Prelate,  chofen  to  prefide 
Over  the  whole  Ignatlan  Dro\c, 
And  all  the  Clergy-Tribes  befide, 
AU  but  the  facred  few  that  mix  their  Zeal  ^vith  Love. 

In  every  difFerent  Secl:  'twas  known, 
It  madc  the  Caflbck  and  thc  Cowl  its  own, 
Now  ftalk'd  in  formal  >Cloke,  now  flutter'd   in  the 

[Govn. 

X.  At 


^4         Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

X. 

NohiTtJfimts  Inquifitionh   Curia, 
( Sokrtijfima  Hareticorum  Mufdpula) 

Primavus  Fundator,  ^  Prafes» 
jfmplij/imo  Cardinalium   Confeffui, 
Necnon  SanSfiffimo  S.  R,  Eccleftc^ 

P&tri   Capitique 
A  Secretioribus  femper  ConfiUis. 


xr. 

Chrifiiani   infuper  Orbis  totius 
Tam  per  Orientales,  quam  Occidentalei 
Mundi  phgas 

Mifei-e  fecum   Militantis 

( Et   quid,  quafi,  Augufiius 
De  maximo  Heroum  dicendmn  F  ) 

Antefgnanus  femper  Triumphans, 

xir. 

Infula  Britannlcae  Extraneis  ah  hofihus^ 
Pelagi  manihus,   necnon  Navium 
Propugnaculis  hene  munita, 
Bonis  praterea  Domeficis, 
^ia  facris,  qua   Civilihus 


(Bmi 


/7/Prose  andV^KSz.         8f 
X. 

At  what  dark  Hour  fo  e'er 

The  curft  Divan  at  Rome  were  met, 

Catholick  Fate  to  propagate, 

This  Monfter  fiird  the  Chair. 

The  Conclave  dreft  in  Bonnets  red, 

With  three-crown'd  Tyrant  at  their  Head,, 

Made  it  their  Privy-Councellor. 
The  Inquifition  Court  (a  Bloody  Crew, 

Artful  to  fet  the  folemn  Trap 

That  lets  no  Heretick  efcape) 
Owns  it  her  Prefident  and  Founder  too, 

XI. 

Oft  as  the  Church  in  Eaji  or  TVeftern  Lands 

Rifing  againft  herfelf  in  Arms, 

Li  her  own  Bk>od  imbru'd  her  Hands, 

This  Chief  led  on  th'  unnatural  War, 

Or  did  the  bloody  Standards  bear, 
Or  found  the  fierce  Alarms  j 
Vi£lorious  ftill.  (And  what  can  mOre  be  faid 
Of  all  the  living  Warriors,  or  the  Heroes  dead  \\ 

XIL 

Britain,  a  Land  well  ftor'd  with  every  Good, 
That  Nature,  Law,  Religion  givcs; 
A  Land  where  facred  Freedom  thrives  ; 

Bleft  Iflc  !  If  herown  Weal  ftie  undeiftood  ! 

Her 


8  6  Mlfceiianeous  Thotights, 

( Bona  fi  tandem  fua  ncverit) 

Omnium   Fortunatijpnics 
( Proh   Dolor  !    Proh  Pudor  !  ) 
Intefinm  Divifor   ^  Helluo,. 


xiir 

T fuge  Viator,    Malignum' 
Hujufce   Sepukhri  Vaporem  ! 

Latare^    Fefina^    isf   Ora. 
Ne  Sphingi  adeo  nefandcs 

Ullus   in  avum 
Rcfmr£^ionis  Concedatur  Lccus,. 


///  P  p.  o  s  E  and  Ve  r  s  e.  8 


-Her  Sons  immur'd  with  guardian  Oceans  fleep, 

And  Caftles  floating  on  the  Deep, 
Fenc'd  fromall  foreign  Fces,  O  Sliame  !  O  Sin  ! 
Her  Sons  had  let  this  baleful  Mifchief  in  ; 
This  hellifh  Fury,  who  vvith  flattering  Breath 

Did  firft  divide  and  then  devour, 
And  made  wildWafte  where  e'er  ftie  fpread  herPower 
Behold  fhe  meets  her  fatal  Hour 
And  Hes  enchain'd  in  Death. 

xnr. 

Shout  at  the  Grave,  O  Traveller  ; 

Triumphant  Joys  thatreach  the  Skies 

Are  here  thejufteft  Obfequies  : 
Shout  thrice ;  then  flee  afar 
The  poys'nousSteams  and  Stenches  of  theSepulchre : 

Go,  turn  thy  Face  to  Heaven,  and  pray, 
That  fuch  a  hateful  Monfter  never  may 

Obtain  a  Refure<^ion-Day. 


XXI.  7he. 


BS  MifcellaneoTis  Thoughts-^ 


XXI. 

The  Death  <?/La2arus. 

TXT^HAT  a  wondrous  Difference  there  is  betwixt 
the  Soul  and  the  Body  of  a  poor  diftrefled,  dy- 
ing  Chriftian  r  His  Fkih  perhaps  with  Lazarui  is  fuU  of 
Difeafes,  and  in  a  few  Moments  time  it  lies  dead  upon 
the  Dunghill  ;  a  noifome  Carcafe  !  an  unlovely  and 
offenfive  Sight  !  then,  as  tho'  it  were  unworthy  for  tlie 
Earth  to  bear  it,  'tis  thrown  under  Ground  to  rot  in 
Darknefs,  as  a  Companion  and  Food  for  Worms  : 
But  his  Soul  (like  one  of  the  Lamps  of  Gidecn  fhining 
out  at  Alidnight  from  a  broken  Pitcher)  appears  imme- 
diately  in  its  native  Brightnefs  and  Beauty,  as  a  Crea- 
ture  born  of  Heaven,  and  akin  to  G  OD  ;  it  is  taken 
up  as  an  honourable  Burden  for  the  Wings  of  Angels  ; 
it  is  fwiftly  convey'd  above  the  Heavens,  and  made  a 
Companion  for  all  the  Sons  of  -G  o  D  in  Glory.  Luke 
xvi.  20,22,  Judgesvn.  16,  r^. 

L  E  T  us  take  a  diftincl  Review  of  each  of  thefe 
different  Circumftances  of  the  Flefh  and  Spirit,  and  fet 
them  in  a  juft  Light  and  in  due  Oppofition. 

The 


in 


Prose  andV 's.ViS^.         89 


T  H  E  Body  with  all  Its  Bonds  and  Nerves  lies  dead 
and  movelefs,  a  denio]ifh'd  Prifon  and  broken  Fet- 
ters  ;  the  Soul  all  Life  and  Vigour,  a  Prifoner  relea- 
(cd  from  all  its  Chains,  and  exulting  in  glorious  Li- 
berty. 

T  H  E  Body  an  unworthy  Load  of  Earth  ;  the 
Soul   a  Burden  fit  for  an  AngePs  Wing. 

T  H  E  Body  thrown  under  Ground  and  hid  in 
Darknefs  ;  the  <Soul  rifing  above  the  Skies,  and  ftii- 
ning  there  in  Gyirmeflt&  ef  Light. 

T  H  E  Body  the  Entertainment  and  the  Contempt 
of  Worms  ;  the  Soul  proper  Company  for  Chri/l 
and  his  Saints. 

W  A  s  it  not  a  Stroke  of  Divine  Love  that  demo- 
]i{h'd  t!ie  Prifon-houfe,  and  releas'd  the  Captive  ?  that 
broke  the  dark  earthen  Pitcher,  and  bid  the  Lamp, 
t^fear  andjhine  ? 


■^?^ 


2M  vTr  J  h 


XXII.  An 


90  Mifcelhneotis  Thoughtf^ 


XXII. 

^;/    H  Y  M  N     tO     C  H  R  I  S  T     J  E  S  U  S^ 

The  Eternal  Llfe. 
I. 

■  H  E  R  E  fliall  the  Tribes  of  Adam  find 
The  fovereign  Good  to  fill  the  Mind  ? 
Ve  Sons  ©f'  Mor^il  VVlrdom,  fliow 
The  Spring  whenee  living  Waters  flow. 

n. 

Say,    will   the  ^toich   fljnty   Heart 
Meit,  and   this  cordial  Juice  impart  ? 
Could  Pkto  find  thefe  blifsful   Streams^, 
Araongft  his  Raptures  and  his  Dreams  ? 

III. 

\\\  vain   I   ask  ;    for  Nature's   Power 
Extends   but  to  this   mortal  Hour : 
■'Twas  but  a  poor  Relief  (he  gave 
Againft  theTerrors  of  the   Grave. 

IV. 
Jes  u  s,-  our  Kinfman,  and  our  GoD>, 
Array'd  in  Majefty  and  Blood  i 


in  Prose  and  Verse.         91 

Thou  art  our  Life  ;  our  Souls  in  Thee 
Poirefs  a   fuU  Felicity. 

V. 
AIl  our  immortal  Hopes   are   lald 
InThee,  our  Surety,  and  our  Head  ; 
Thy  Crofs,  thy  Cradle,  and  thy  Thronc, 
Are  big  with  Glories  yct  unknown. 

VI. 

Let  Athe'if\i   fcoff,  and  Jewi  blafpheme 
Th*  Eternal  Life,  and  J  e  sus'  Namej 
A  Word  of  his  Almighty  Breath 
Deomi  the  rebdliousWprld  te  DeaUn 

VIL 

But  let  my  Soul   for   ever  lie 
Beneath  the  Bleflings  of  thine  Eye  ; 
'Tis  Heaven  on  Earth,  'tis  Heaven  above, 
To  fee  thy  Face,  to  tafte  thy  Love. 


XXIIL 

DlSTANT    ThUNDER. 

TT7  H  E  N,  we  hear  theThunder  rumbhng  in  fome 
dirtant  Qiiartcr  of  the  Heavens,  v.e  fit  calm 
and  fecure  amidft  our  Bufincfs  or  Divcrfions,  we  feel 
no  Tcrrors  about  us,  and  apprehend  no  Danger,-  When 
we  fee  the  flender  Streaks  of  Lightning  play  afar  off  in 


g%  Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

the  Horlzon  of  an  Evening  Sky,  we  look  on  and< 
amufe  ourfelves  as  with  an  agreeable  Spedlacle,  with- 
out  the  leaft  Fear  or  Concern.  But,  lo,  the  dark 
Cloud  rifes  by  degrees,  it  grows  black  as  Night,  and 
big  with  Tempeft  j  it  fpreads  as  it  rifes  to  the  Mid- 
Heaven,  and  now  hangs  dire£lly  over  us ;  the  Flafhes 
of  Lightning  grow  broad  and  flrong,  and  like  Sheets 
of  ruddy  Fire,  they  blaze  terribly  all  round  the  Hemi- 
fphere.  We  bar  the  Doors  and  Windows  and  every 
A\'enue  of  Light,  but  we  bar  them  all  in  vain  ;  the 
Flames  break  in  at  every  Cranny,  and  threaten  fwift 
DeflruiSlion.  TheThunder  follows,  burfting  from. 
the  Cloud  wlth  fudden  and  tremendous  Crafhes  ;  the 
Voice  of  the  Lord  is  redoubled  with  Violence,  and  over- 
whelms  us  with  Terror  j  it  rattles  over  our  Heads,  as 
tho'  the  whole  Houfe  were  broken  down  at  once  with 
a  Stroke  from  Heaven,  and  were  tumbling  on  us  amain 
to  bury  us  in  the  Ruins.  Happy  the  Soul  whofe  Hope 
in  his  G  o  D  compofes  all  his  PafTions  amidft  thefe 
Storms  of  Nature,  and  renders  his  whole  Deportment 
peaceful  and  ferene  amidft  the  Frights  and  Hurries  of 
weak  Spirits  and  unfortify'd  Minds. 

W  H  A  T  Leftbn  fhall  we  derive  from  fuch  a 
Scene  as  this  ?  Methinks  I  fee  here  in  what  manner 
th^  Terrors  of  the  Book  of  G  o  d  and  the  Threat- 
nings  of  divine  Vengence  are  receiv'd  an^  entertain'd 
by  fecure  Sinners.  Thefe  Threatnings  appear  to  them 
like  Streaks  ofLightningafarofF:  The  moft  dreadful 
Prediaions  of  the  Fury  of  G  o  d  found  in  their  Ears 

biU 


in  PROSE  and  Verse.         93 

but  like  the  feeble  Murmurs  of  the  Sky,  and  far  di- 
ftant  Thunder.     The  Poor  among  Mankind  go  on  to 
purfue  their  Labours  of  Life,  and  the  Rich  their  vain 
Amufements  ;  they  have  no  Fear  about  thefe  future 
Storms  afar  ofF,  nor  any  Solicitude  to  avoid  them.  But 
the  Hour  is  haftening  when  every  Threatning  in  the 
Bible  fhall  appear  to  be  the  Voiceof  G  od,  and  his 
Power  fhall  employ  all  the  terrible  Things  in  the  Crea- 
tion    for   the  Accomplifhment  of  his  dreadfui  Word. 
The  Wings  of  Time  bring  onward  the  remote  Tem- 
peft  :  Thefe  dark  Clouds  unite  and  grow  big  with  di- 
vine  and  eternal  Vengeance  ;  they  rife  high,  they  hang 
over  the  Nations,  and  arc  juft  ready  to  be  difcharg'd 
on  the  Headof  Impenitents.     The   G  o  d  of  Thun- 
der  will  roar  from  Heaven,  and  caufe  his  Voice  to  be 
heard  through  the  Foundations  of  the  Earth,  and  to 
•the  very  Centre  of  Hell.     The  Spirit  of  the  haugh- 
tieft  Sinner  fhall  tremble  with  unknown  Aftonifhment, 
and  the  Man  of  Mockery  fhall  quiver  to  his  very  Soul. 
The  Lightnings  of  G  o  d  fhall  kindle  the  World  into 
one  vaft  Conflagration  ;  the  Earth,  with  all  its  Forefts 
and  Cities  fhall  make  a  dreadful  Blaze  j  the  Enemies 
of  the  Lord  fhall  be  Fuel  for  this  devouring  Fire,  and 
a  painful  Burning  fhall  be  kindled  in  their  Confciences, 
which   innumerable  Agcs  fhall  not   extinguifh.     JVho 
can  dive/l  iviih  this  devourini  Fire  ?  Who  can  endure 
thefe  everlajiing  Burnings  ? 

B  L  E  s  s  E  D  Souls,  who  in  a  wife  and  happy  Hour 
have  heard  thefe  divine  Warnings,  who  ftood  in  Awe 

of 


94  Mijcellaneous  Thonghts^ 

of  thefe  diftant  Thunders,  and  reverenced  and  obey*d 
the  Voice  of  the  Lord  in  them.  Bleffed  Souls,  who 
beheld  thc  Flafhes  of  ihe  Wrath  of  G  o  D  while  they 
were  yet  afar  ofF ;  who  faw  them  kindling  terribly  in 
the  Threatnings  of  the  broken  Law,  and  fled  for  Re- 
fuge  to  the  Hope  fet  before  tliem  in  the  Gofpel !  they 
are  divinely  fecur'd  amidft  the  Promifes  of  the  Cove- 
nant  of  Grace,  from  all  the  Approaches  of  the  fiery 
Indignation.  Jesus  has  fprinkled  his  own  Blood 
upon  'em  ;  a  fovereign  and  preventive  Remedy  againft 
thefe  Terrors,  a  fure  and  e<"ernal  Defence  againfl  the 
Power  of  the  deflroying  Angei  and  the  burning  Tem- 
pefl.  Their  Feet  fiallJJand  on  high,  their  Hahitation  is  n 
Miimtion  of  Rocks  ;  thcy  (hall  live  fecure  and  rejoice  in 
their  G  o  d  amidfl  the  Ruins  of  the  lower  Creation. 


XXIV. 

DavidV  Lamentation  over  Saul  and 
Jonathan,  2  Sam.  i.  19,  ^c. 

'T^  H  E  "Jews  were  ac^uainted  with  feveral  Arts  and 
Scieoces  long  e're  the  Romam  became  a  People,  or 
the  Greeks  were  known  among  the  Nations.  Tho* 
Mofes  might  learn  fome  of  them  in  his  Egyptian  Edu- 
cation,  yetr  perhaps  others  were  taught  by  G  o  d  himi 
felf,   amidfl  their  Travels  m  the  Wildernefs,  when 

they 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.         95- 

they  form'd  fuch  a  wonderful  portable  Strudure  as  the 
Tabernacle,  and  wrought  fuch  Garments  of  exquifite 
Glory  and  Beauty  to  adorn  the  High  Prieft  in  his  fa_ 
cred  Miniftrations.  Nor  is  it  unlikely  that  Mofei  in- 
troduced  among  them  the  Jrt  of  Veife ;  for  the  moft 
ancient  Poetical  Compofures  which  are  known  in  the 
World,  are  the  i^th  Chapter  of  Exodus,  wheie  he 
triumphs  over  Phavaoh  and  his  Army,  the  poth  Pfahr. 
where  he  defcribes  the  Frailty  and  Mifery  of  Human 
Life,  and  the  3  zd  of  Deutremmy^  where  he  leaves  be- 
hind  him  a  noble  divine  Ode  at  his  Death,  for  the  per- 
petual  Memory  of  G  o  d  and  his  Wonders. 

T  H  E  next  remarkable  Inftance  we  have  of  this 
lcind ,  are  the  Writings  of  Daiid^  the  fweet  Pfalmift 
of  Ifrael ;  but  e^'en  David  could  never  be  fuppofed  to 
borrow  any  thing  from  the  Greeh^  when  Hojiter^  the 
Father  of  their  Verfe,  was  fuppofed  to  be  but  a  Con- 
temporary  with  Solomon  the  Son  of  David.  If  tlie 
Greeh  had  been  acquainted  with  the  Songs  of  Mofcs^ 
which  I  ha\'e  mention'd,  or  the  Rcmam  had  e\ei 
known  the  Odes  of  David,  and  amongft  the  reft  this 
admirable  Elegy,  they  wouW  never  have  fpoke  of  thc 
yezus  with  fo  much  Contempt,  as  a  rude  and  barbarcus 
People  ;  at  leaft:  I  am  perfuaded  their  Poets  would  have 
conceived  a  much  better  Opinion  of  them,  when  they 
found  them  fo  far  exceed  any  thing  that  their  own 
Nations  had  ever  produced,  I  believe  I  might  fairly 
challenge  all  the  Antiquity  of  the  Heathens  to  prefent 
4JS  with  aa  Odc  gf  morc   beautiful  Sentiments,  and 

greatcr 


^6  MifcellaneousThonghts, 

greater  Elegancy,  than  this  Lamentation  over  Saul  and 
"Jonathan.  'Tis  rehearfed  in  the  Scripture  indeed,  but 
perhaps  not  written  by  Infpiration,  for  there  is  fcarce 
any  thing  of  G  o  d  or  Religion  in  it.  David  the  mere 
Man  was  a  fubhme  Poet,  and  G  o  d  made  him  a 
Prophet. 

I  H  A  V  E  feen  it  feveral  times  in  an  EngliJ})  Drefs,A 
but  none  of  them  have  given  me  any  more  Satisfa6lion, 
than   perhaps  I  fhall  give  to  thofe  who   read   mine. 
'Twas  a  mere  Admiration  of  this  Hebrew  Song  that  fet 
my  Imagination  at  work,  in  this  Attempt  to  imitate. 

1  s  H  A  L  L  here  firft  tranfcribe  it  from  the  Scripture, 
tho'  it  is  impoflible  that  it  fliould  appear  at  this  dillance 
•of  Time,  and  in  our  Lanquage,  with  half  the  Luftre  in 
which  it  ftood  in  that  Age  and  Nation  when  it  was 
written. 

2  Sam.  i.  17.  j^nd  David  lamented  with  this  Lamen- 
iation  over  Saul,   and  over  Jonathan  hii  Son. 

19.  ne  Beaiity  ij/^Ifrael  /;  Jlain  upsn  thy  high  Places ; 
Hoiv  are  the  Mighty  fallen  ! 

20.  Tell  it  not  in  Gath,  pubJifl}  it  not  in  the  Streets  of 
Askelon,  UJl  the  Daughters  of  the  PhiUftines  rejoice,  leji 
the  Daughters  of  the  uncircumcifedtriumph. 

7.1.  Te  Mountains  of  Gilboa,  let  there  be  m  Dew,  nei- 

ther  let  there  be  Rain  upon  you,  nor  Fields  of  Offerings  •' 

for  there  the  Shield  of  the  Mighty  is  vilely  caji  away,  the 

Shield  of  Saul,    as  tho'  he  had  not  been  aminted  with 

Oil  '^ 

22.  Frm 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.        97 

22.  From  the  Blood  of  the  Sbhi,  from  the  Fat  of  the 
Mighty^  the  Bm  of  Jonathan  turned  not  back,  and  the 
Sivtrd  i^-^Saul  retiirned  not  empty. 

23.  Saul  and  Jonathan  were  lovely  and pleafant  in  their 
Lives^  and  in  their  Death  they  wtre  not  divided  j  thy 
were  fivifter  than  Eagles^  they  were  Jlronger  than 
Lyons.  , 

24.  Te  Daughters  of  Ifrael,  weep  over  Saul  ivho 
chthed  you  in  Scarlet  with  other  Delighis,  who  pui  on  Or- 
naments  of  Gold  upon  your  Apparel. 

25.  How  are  the  Mighty  fallen  in  the  midfi  of  the  Baf- 
tle  !  O  Jonathan,  thou  wert  fain  in  thy  high  Places. 

26.  /  am  dijhefjed  for  thee^  my  Brother  Jonathan  ; 
very  pkafant  hafi  ihou  been  unto  me  ;  ihy  Love  to  me  wa^ 
iconderfu/y  pajjing  the  Love  ofWomen. 

27.  Howare  the  Mighty  fallen^  and  theWeapons  ofWar 
perijh^d  ! 

Paraphrased  thm. 

I. 

TTNhappy  Day  !   diftreiring  Sight ! 
Ifrael^  the  Land  of  Heaven's  elight, 
How  is  thy  Strength,  thy  Beauty  fled  ! 
On  the  high  Places  of  the  Fight 
Behold  thy  Princes  fall'n,  thy  Sons  of  Viaory  dead, 

II. 

Ne'er  be  it  told  in  Gath^  nor  known 
Amgng  the  Streets  of  Jskelon  : 

F  Kov^ 


^S         MifielUneous  ThoughtSy 

How  will  Philijiia^t  Youtli  rejoice 

And  triumph  in  our  Shame, 
And  Girls  with  weak  uniiallowed  Voice 
Chant  the  Difhonours  of  the  Hebrew  Name  ! 

IIJ. 

Mountains  of  Gilha,  let  no  Dew 
Nor  fruitful  Showers  defcend  on  you  : 
Curfe  on  your  P^ields  thro'  all  the  Year  ! 
No  flow'ry  Bleffings  there  appear, 
Nor  golden  Ranks  of  Harveft  ftand 

To  grace  the  Altar,  or  to  feed  the  Land. 
'Twas  in  thofe  inaufpicious  Fields 
Judem  Heroes  loft  their  Shields : 

^Twas  there  (Ah  bafe  Reproach  and  Scandal  of  the  Day !) 
Thy  Shield,  O  Saul,  was  caft  away, 

As  tha'  the  Prophet's  Horn  had  never  fhed 
Its  facred  Odours  on  thy  Head. 

IV. 

The  Sword  of  Scml  had  ne'cr  till  now 

Awoke  to  War  in  vain, 
Nor  Jomthan  withdrawn  his  Bow 

Without  an  Army  (lain. 
Where  Truth  and  Honour  mark'd  their  Way, 
Not  Eagles  fwifter  to  their  Prey, 
Nor  Lyons  fixong  or  bold  as  they. 

V. 

Graceful  in  Arms  and  great  in  War 
WciQ  Jomthan  and  Saul, 

Pleafant 


/;^  P R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.         99 

Pleafant  in  Life,  and  Manly  fair  ; 
Nor  Death  divides  the  Royal  Pair, 
And  Thoufands  fhare  their  Fall. 
Daughters  of  Ifrael^  melt  your  Eyes 
To  fofteft  Tears,  and  fwcll  your  Sighs, 
Difrob'd,  difgrac'd  your  Monarch  lies 
Qn  tJie  blcak  Mountains,  Pale  and  Cold : 
He  made  rich  Scarlet  your  Array  ; 
Bright  wcre  your  Looks,  your  Bofoms  gay 
With  Gems  of  regal  Gift,  and  interwoven  Gold, 

VT. 

How  are  the  Princes  funk  in  Death  ! 
Fairn  on  the  fhameful  Ground  \ 
Fhcre  my  own  Jonathan  refign'd  his  Breath  ; 

On  the  high  Places  where  he  ftood, 

He  loft  his  Honours  and  his  Blood ; 
Oh  execrable  Arm  that  gave  the  raortal  Wound  ? 

vn. 

My  Jonathan^  my  better  Part, 
My  Brother,  and  (that  dearer  Name)  my  Friend, 
I  feel  the  mortal  Wound  that  reach'd  thy  Heart, 
And  here  my  Comforts  end. 

How  Pleafant  was  thy  Love  to  me  ! 

Amazing  Paflion,  ftrong  and  frce  ! 
No  Dangers  could  thy  fteddy  Soul  rcmove  : 
Not  the  foft  Virgin  loves  to  that  degree, 
Nor  Man  tothat  degree  does  the  foft  Virgin  love. 

F  2  Tc 


xoo       MifceUaneous  TJmights, 

To  name  my  Joys,  awakes  my  Pain  ; 
The  dying  Friend  runs  cold  thro'  every  Vein  j 

My  Jcnathan^  my  d)-ing  Friend, 

How  thick^my  Woes  arife  ?   where  will  my  Sorrows 

[end  ? 
VIII. 

Unhappy  Day  !  diftreiling  Sight  I 

Ifrael,  the  Land  of  Heaven's  Delight, 
How  are  thy  Princes  falPn,  thy  Sons  of  Vi<5lory  flain! 

The  broken  Bow,  the  fhiver'd  Spear, 

With  all  the  fully'd  Pomp  of  War, 
In  rude  Confufion  fpread, 

Promifcuous  lie  among  the  Dead, 
A  lamentable  Rout  o'er  all  the  inglorious  Plain. 


XXV. 

The  Skeleton. 

'^  O  U  N  G  Tramariniis  was  juft  returned  from  his 
Travels  abroad,  when  he  invited  his  Uncle  to  his 
i-odgings  on  a  Saturday  Noon  ;  his  Uncle  was  a  fub- 
ftantial  Trader  in  the  City,  a  Man  of  fmcere  Good- 
nefs,  and  of  no  contemptible  Underftanding  ;  Crato 
■was  his  Name.  The  Nephew  firft  entertain'd  him 
with  Learned  Talk  of  his  Travels.  The  Cojiverfa- 
tion  happening  to  falF  upon  Anatomy,  and  fpeaking 
pf  th<i  jffaidf  hc  inention'd  the  Carpus  smd  Metacarpus, 

the 


m 


P  ROSE /?;//Verse.       ioi 


the  joining  of  the  Bones  by  many  hard  Names,  and  the 
Pcrio/lecn  which  covered  them,  together  with  other 
Greek  Words  which  Crato  had  never  heard  of,  Then 
hc  fhewed  him  a  few  Curiofities  he  had  colleded  ;  but 
Anatomy  being  the  Subjecft  of  their  chief  Difcourfe, 
he  dwelt  much  upon  theSkeletons  of  aHare  and  aPai- 
tridge  :  "  Obferve  Sir,  faid  he,  how  firm  thejoints  !  how 
•*  nicely  the  Parts  are  fitted  to  each  other  !  How  pro- 
"  per  this  Limb  for  Flight,  and  that  for  Running  ! 
*'  and  how  wonderful  the  whole  Compofition  !"  Crato 
took  dtie  Notice  of  the  mofl  confiderable  Parts  of  thofy 
Animals,  and  obferved  the  chief  Remarks  that  his  Ne- 
phew  made  ;  but  being  detain'd  there  two  Hours  witli  - 
out  a  Dmner,  afTuming  a  pleafant  Air,  he  faid,  *'  I  wifh 
**  thefe  Rarities  had  Flefh  upon  tbem,  for  I  begin  to 
"  be  hungry,  Nephew,  and  you  entertain  me  with 
**  nothing  but  Bones."  Then  he  carryM  home  his 
Nephew  to  Dinnerwith  him,  and  difmifs'd  the  Jefl, 

The  next  Morning  his  Kinfman  Tramarinm  defired 
him  to  hear  a  Sermon  at  fuch  a  Church,  for  Pm  inforrn* 
ed,  faid  he,  the  Preacher  will  be  my  old  School-mafler. 
It  was  Agrotes^  a  Country  Minifter,  who  was  to  fuliil  the 
Service  of  the  Day  ;  an  honefl,  a  pious,  and  an  ufeful 
Man,  who  fed  his  own  People  Weekly  with  Divin^ 
Food,  compofed  his  Scrmons  with  a  Mixture  of  the 
Inftrudive  and  the  Pathctick,  and  deliver'd  them  with 
no  impropcr  Elocution.  Whcreany  Difficulty  appear'd 
in  the  Text  or  the  Subjea,  he  ufually  explain'd  it  in  a 
vcry  njitural  and  eafy  Manner,  to  the  underftanding  of 

t'  3  all 


loz        Mifcellaneous .  Thonghts, 

all  his  Pariihoners  ;  he  paraphrafed  on  the  mofl:  afFecr- 
ing  Parts  largely,  that  he  might  ftrike  the  Confcience 
of  ev'rv  Hearer,  and  had  been  the  happy  Means  of  the 
Salvation  of  many  :  But  he  thought  thus  v/ith  himfelf, 
*'  Whenl  preach  ^ALondon,  I  have  Hearersof  a  wifer 
*'  Rank,  I  mufl  feed  them  with  Learning  and  fubflan- 
*'  tial  Senfe,  and  muft  have  my  Difcourfe  fet  thick 
*'  with  diflindl  Sentences  and  new  Matter."  He  con- 
trived  therefore  to  abrid^e  his  Compofures,  and  to  throw 
fbur  of  his  Country  Sermons  together  to  make  up  onc 
for  the  City,  and  yet  he  could  not  forbcar  to  add  a  lit- 
tle  Gnek  m  the  beginning  :  He  told  the  Auditors  how 
tiic  Text  was  to  be  explain'd,  he  fet  forth  the  Arialyfis 
«f  the  Words  in  ordcr,  {hew'd  the  Hoti  and  the  Dictiy 
(i.  e.  that  it  was  fo,  and  tvhy  it  was  fo)  with  much 
learned  Criticifm,  (all  which  he  wifely  left  out  in  the  , 
Country.j)  then  he  pronounced  the  Do6lrine  difltincll}',  . 
and  iiUed  up  the  refl  of  the  Hour  with  the  mere  Rehear- 
fal  of  the  General  and  Special  Heads  :  But  he  omit- 
ted  all  the  Amphiication  which  made  his  Performances 
in  the  Country  fo  clear  and  fo  intelligible,  fo  warm 
and  afFedling.  In  fhort,  it  was  the  mere  Joint»  and 
Carcafs  of  a  long  Compofure,  and  contain'd  above  for- 
ty  Branchesin  it.  The  Hearers  had  no  timeto  con- 
fider  or  reflect  on  the  good  Things  which  were  fpoken, 
or  apply  them  to  their  own  Confciences ;  the  Preacher 
hurry'd  their  Attention  fo  fafl  onward  to  new  Matters, 
that  they  could  make  no  ufe  of  any  thing  he  fliid 
while  he  fpoke  it,  nor  had  they  a  Moment  for  Re- 

fledlion. 


in  Prose  and  Verse.       105 

Hcdtion  in  order  to  fix  it  in  their  Memories,   and  im- 
prove  by  it  at  home. 

T  H  E  young  Gentleman  was  fomewhat  out  of 
Countenance  wlien  the  Sermon  was  done,  for  he 
mirs'd  all  that  Life  and  Spirit,  that  pathetick  Am- 
plification  which  imprefs'd  Jiis  Confcience  when  he 
was  but  a  School-boy  :  Hov/ever  he  put  the  befl  Face 
upon  it,  and  began  to  commend  the  Performancc 
"  Was  it  not  (faid  he)  Sir,  a  fubftantial  Difcourfe  ?' 
"  How  well  connefted  were  all  the  Reafons  ;  how 
**  ftrong  the  Inferences,  and  what  a  Variety  and 
"  Number  of  them  r"  'Tis  true  (faith  thc  Uncle)  but 
yet  methinks  I  want  Food  here,  and  I  find  notJiing 
but  Bones  again.  I  could  not  have  thought,  Nephcw> 
you  would  have  treatcd  me  two  Days  togcther  jufl  a- 
like  ;  Yefterday  at  Home,  and  to  Day  at  Churcli^ 
the  firft  Courfe  was  Greek,  and  all  the  reft  mere  Ske- 
Uton, 


XXVI. 

WoRDS  wtthout  Spirit. 

'CME  RA  was  much  difpleafed  with  her  Maid-Ser- 

vantj   for  fome   Pieces  of  grofs    ill  Condudl  iii' 

Domeftick  Aftairs.     The   Occafion  of  her  Difplea- 

iare  was  great  and  juft,  but  flie  had  not  the  Spi- 

F  4  ri(f 


I04       Mifcellaneous  Thovghts, 

rit  of  Reproof.  Crlton  the  Partner  of  her  Life,  hap- 
pening  then  to  be  in  his  CJofet,  fte  went  up  and 
made  her  Complaints  there  j  he  intreated  hcr  to  ex  - 
cufe  him  from  the  Oeconomy  of  the  Kitchen  and  thc 
Parlour  :  'Twas  all  entirely  under  her  Dominion, 
and  if  her  Maids  were  fo  culpable,  fhe  muft  reprove 
them  fharply  :  "  Alas,  faid  Ihe,  I  cannot  chitfe  ; 
'*  however,  to  fhew  my  Refentment,  if  you  will 
"  write  down  a  Chiding,  ril  go  immediately  and 
«  read  it  to  them."  This  is  no  Fable,  but  Hiftory. 
Now  what  better  Improvement  can  be  made  of 
it,  than  to  make  a  Parable  like  it  ? 

Le£lorm  is  a  pious  Man,  and  worthy  Miniflcr 
in  a  Country  Parifti ;  his  Difcourfes  are  well  formed, 
his  Sentiments  on  almoft  every  Subjeft  are  juft  and 
proper,  his  Stile  is  Modern  and  not  Unpolite,  nor 
does  he  utterly  negled  the  Paifions  in  the  Turn  of  his 
Compofures  :  Yet  I  cannot  call  him  a  good  Prcacher> 
ibr  he  does  not  only  ufe  his  written  Notes  to  fe- 
curc  his  Method,  and  to  relieve  his  Memory,  which 
is  a  very  proper  and  ufeful  Pra6lice,  but  he  fcarce 
cver  takes  his  Eyc  ofF  from  his  Book  to  addrefs 
himfelf  with  Life  and  Spirit  to  the  People  :  For  this 
Reafon,  many  of  his  Hearers  fall  afleep ;  the  reft  of 
them  fit  from  January  to  Bsceinber^  regardlcfs  and  un- 
concern'dj  an  Aire  of  Indolence  reigns  through  thc 
Faces  of  his  Auditory,  as  if  it  werc  a  Matter  of  no 
Importance,  or  not  addrefs'd  to  them,  and  his  A^Ii- 
niftfauvns  have  little  Power  or  Succefs. 

In 


m 


Prose  and  Verse.       105- 


I  N  his  laft  Sermon  he  had  an  Ufe  of  Reproof  for 
nie  Vices  which  were  praftifed  in  a  publick  and 
iliamelefs  manner  in  his  Parifh,  and  as  the  Apoftle 
required  Timothy  to  reprove  fuch  Sinners  before  all,  fo  he 
fuppofed  that  thefe  Sins,  at  leaft,  ought  not  to  efcape  a 
pubhclc  Rebuke.  The  Paragraph  was  well  drawnup, 
and  indeed  it  was  animated  with  fome  juft  and  aweful 
Severities  of  Language  ;  yet  he  had  not  Courage 
enough  to  chide  the  Guilty,  nor  to  animate  ])is  Voice 
with.  any  juft  degree  of  Zeal.  However,  thegood 
Man  did  his  beft,  he  went  into  the  Pulpit  and  read 
them  a  Chiding. 

H  I  s  Condu£l  is  juft  the  fame  when  he  defigns  his 
Addrefs  in  his  Paper  to  any  of  the  fofter  Paflions;  for 
by  the  Coldnefs  of  his  Pronunciation,  and  keeping  his^ 
Eye  ever  fixed  on  his  Notes,  he  makes  very  Httle  Im- 
preffion  on  his  Hearers.  When  he  ftiould  awaken 
fenfelefs  and  obftinate  Sinners,  and  pluck  them  as 
Brands  out  of  the  Burning,  he  only  reads  to  them  out 
of  his  Book  fome  Words  of  Pity^  or  perhaps  z.  Ufe  of 
Terror  ;  and  if  he  would  lament  over  their  Impeni- 
tence  and  their  approachlng  Ruin,  he  can  do  no  more 
than  read  them  a  Chapter  of  Lamentation. 

SiNCE    there    are    fo   many    of  the   Kindred  of 

Lenmm  in  our  Nation,  'tis  no  Wonder  that  fome  of 

them   arife   to  vindicate  the  Family  and  their  Prac- 

tice.     Do  not  the  EngUJJ}  Sermons,  fay  they,  excced 

F  5  thofe 


io6       Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

thofe  of  other  Nations,  becaufe  they  are  compofed 
with  fo  much  Juftnefs  and  Accuracy,  and  by  careful 
Reading,  they  are  delivered  with  great  Exadlnefs  to  the 
People,  without  trufting  one  Sentence  to  the  Frailty 
of  the  Memory,  or  the  Warmth  of  fuddcn  Imagi- 
nation  ? 

I  A  M  fure  it  may  be  reply'd,  that  if  the  Eftg- 
iijh  Sermons  exceed  thofe  of  our  Neighbours,  the 
EngliJ]}  Preachers  would  cxceed  therafeh'es,  if  they 
would  learn  the  Art  of  Reading  by  the  Glance  of  an 
^)'^,  fo  as  never  to  interrupt  the  Force  of  their  Ar- 
gument,  nor  the  Vivacity  and  Pathos  of  their  Pronun- 
ciation  j  or  if  they  made  themfelves  fo  much  Mafters 
t)f  what  they  had  written,  and  dehvered  it  with  fuch 
Life  and  Spirit,  fuch  Freedom  and  Fcrvency,  as  tho* 
'iX.  came  all  frefh  from  the  Head  and  the  Heart.  'Tis 
hy  this  Art  of  Pronouncing,  as  well  as  by  a  warm 
Compofure,  that  fome  of  the  French  Preachers  reign 
over  their  AfTemblies,  like  a  Cicero  or  a  De?7ioJihene5  of 
old,  and  that  with  fuch  fuperior  Dignity  and  Power,. 
as  is  feldom  feen  now  a-Days  in  an  Englifi  AudiencCy 
whatfoever  Efteem  may  be  paid  to  our  Writings. 

A  Pa  ?  E  R  with  the  moft  pathetic  Lines  written 
upon  it,  has  no  Fear  nor  Hope,  no  Zeal  or  Compaf- 
fion  j  'tis  confcious  of  no  Defign,  nor  has  any  Solici- 
tude  for  the  Succefs  j  and  a  mere  Reader,  who  coldly 
tells  the  Pcople  what  his  Paper  fays,  feems  to  be  as 
void  of  all  thefe  neceilary  Qualifications,  as  his  Pa- 
pcr  is. 

XXVIL.  The. 


m  Pr  0  s  E  (111  d  V  E  R  s  E.      rc7 


XXVII. 

The   C  H  u  R  c  H  -  Ya  r  d. 

'TTTHEN  I  enter   into    a   Church-Yard,    I  lovs 

to  converfe  with  the  Dead.     See  how  thick  the^ 

Hillocks  of  Mortah'ty  arife  all  around  me,  each  of  them 

a  Monument  of  Death,  and  the  Covering  of  a  Son  or 

Daughter   of  Ada^n.      Perhaps   a  Thoufand  or  Ten 

'Thoufand   Pieces   of  Human   Nature,    Heaps   upon* 

.  Heaps,  lie  buried  in  this  Spot  of  Ground  ;    'tis  the  old 

Repofitory   of   the   Inhabitants   of  the   neighbouring 

Town ;  a  Colle£tion  of  -the  ,Ruins  of  many  Ages^ 

and  the  Rubbifli  of  Twenty  Generations. 

I  s  A  Y  within  myfelf,  What  a  Multitude  of  Hu- 
nan  Beings,  noble  Creatures,  are  here  reduced  to 
Duft  !  G  o  D  has  broken  his  own  beft  Workmanfhip 
to  pieces,  and  demolifli'd  by  Thoufands  the  finefl- 
earthly  Struclures  of  his  own  building.  Death  has  en- 
tered  in,  and  reigned  over  this  Town  for  many  fuccef- 
fivc  Ccnturies  ;  it  had  its  Commiflion  from  God, 
and  it  has  dcvourcd  Multitudes  of  Men. 

S  H  o  u  L  D  a  Stranger  make  the  Enquiry  which 
is  exprefs'd,  Deuf.  xxix.  24.  JVhcrefore  has  the  Lord 
^m  thus  to  thg  ^Vork  of  Jiis  own  Hands  ?    PFhat 

nuanetf' 


io8        Mifcellaneous  ThougbtSy 

meaneth  the  Heat  of  this  great  Anger  ?  The  Anfwer  is 
ready,  Ver,  25,  &c.  Becaufe  they  have  fnned^  they  have 
forfahn  the  Covenant  of  the  Lord  God,  therefo'e  the  Lord 
has  rcoted  them  out  of  their  Land  in  Anger,,  and  in 
IVrath,  and  in  great  Indignation,  and  hath  caft  them  in- 
to  another  Land,  even  the  Land  of  Corruption  and 
Darknefs,  as  it  is  at  this  Day. 

BuT  have  not  otherTownf,  Cities  and  Villages 
their  Church-yards  too  ?  MyThoughts  take  the  Hint 
and  flyAbroad  through  all  the  Burying-places  of  the 
Nations.  What  Millions  of  Mankind  lie  undcr  thc 
Ground  in  Urns,  or  mingled  with  common  Clay  ? 
Every  ancientTown  and  City  in  the  World  has  burnt 
or  buried  all  its  Inhabitants  more  than  Thirty  times 
over  :  What  wide  fpreading  Slaughter, .  what  lamenta^ 
b!e  Defolation,  hasDeath  madeamong  the  Children  of 
Men  !  But  the  Vengeance  is  juft  in  all  ;  each  of  them 
are  Sinners  ;  and  the  Anger  of  Gcd  hath  kindled  againj} 
them  to  bring  upon  them  the  firft  Curfe  that  is  written  in  his 
Book,  In  the  Day  that.  thcu  finneft,  thou  Jhalt  fureJy  die^ 
Gcn.  ii.  17. 

G  o  to  the  Church-yard  then,  O  fmful  and 
thoughtlefs  Mortal,  go  learn  from  every  Tomb-ftone 
aiid  every  rifmg  Hillock,  that  The  JVages  of  Sin  is 
Death.  Le:rn  in  Silence  among  the  Dead,  that  Lefibn 
which  infinitely  concerns  all  the  Living  ;  nor  let  thy 
Keart  be  ever  at  reft  till  thou  art  acquainted  witli 
J  £  s  u  s,  ivho  is  the  Refurre^ion  and  ihe  Life. 

XXVIII.  To. 


in  Prose  and  Verse.       109 


XXVIIL 

Ti?^?pAiNTER  refiorlng an  old Tii^ure, . 

S  I  R,. 
TTTHEN  you  take  a  Review  of  the  former  La- 
bours  of  your  Pencil,  and  retouch  the  Features 
of  Tdalio  vvith  fo  skilful  a  Hand,  you  remove  the  brown 
Vail  which  rolling  Years  had  fpread  over  them,  and 
brighten  all  the  Piece  into  its  early  Form  and  Loveli- 
nefs.  There  rifes  a  frefh  Vigour  upon  the  Looks,  and 
the  Spirit  of  the  Poet  is  infufed  agairi-  into  the  Image 
of  our  aged  Friend.  We  fee  and  wonder  how  the 
Eyes  refume  their  Youth  and  Fire  ;  what  a  Genius 
glows  in  the  Countenance ;  and  new  Light  and  Life 
are  fcatter'd  over  all  the  Shadow  of  the  Man,  who 
himfelf  is  hafting  to  Death  and  Darknefs, 

O  c  o  u  L  D  you  renew  all  the  living  Originals, 
and  recover  them  from  the  Deformations  and  Dif- 
graces  of  Time,  as  eafily  as  your  Pencil .  calls  their 
Pourtraits  back  again  from  Age,  you  would.  be  the 
firft  Man  in,  the  Univerfe-  for  Wealth  and,  Fame. 
Even.the  grofleft  SenfualLft,  who  is  ftrongly  attach'd 
to  his  Cups  and  his  Amours,  would  relinquifh  them 
both  to  make  his  Way  to  your  Hand,  and  offer  all  the 
Remnant  of  his  Patrimony  for  a  Caft  of  your  Favour  : . 

Aurato^ 


1 1  o       Mifcellaneous  Thoughtr, 

Aurato^  the  decrepit  Mifer,  would  bring  his  Mines  of 
Gold,  and  lay  them  at  your  Foot ;  while  his  Daughter 
^iadrillay  in  her  Fortieth  Year,  throws  down  her 
Cards  in  hafte  to  increafe  the  Crowd  at  your  Door, 
and  entreat  the  Bleffings  of  your  Art. 

B  u  T  Nature  (alas !)  hath  fixed  the  Limits  of 
Youth,  Beauty  and  Vigour  ;  narrow  Limits  indeed  ! 
and  whenoncepafs'd,theyare  unrepafTable.  Thebroken 
Lines  of  an  ancient  Painting  may  be  reunited  and  grow 
ftronff,  the  Features  may  rife  round  and  elevated,  and 
the  Colours  glow  again  with  fprightly  Youth  j  but 
cur  real  Form  grows  cold  and  pale,  it  fmks,  it  flattens, 
it  withers  into  Wrinkles  ;  the  Decay  is  refiftlefs  and 
perpetual,  and  Recovery  hes  beyond  the  Reach  of 
Hope.  This  Shadow  of  Idalio^  touched  by  your  Pen- 
cil,  lives  again,  and  will  fee  another  Age,  but  the 
Subftance  dies  daily,  and  is  ready  to  drop  into  the 
Duft. 

T  o  this  Point  of  Mortality,  fmce  'tis  certain  and 
inevitable,  let  us  often  diredt  our  Eyes  ;  let  our 
fcatter'd  Thoughts  be  recolIe6ied  from  all  their  Wan- 
drings,  and  pay  a  daily  Vifit  to  Death.  Acquaintance 
with  it  ifi  the  Light  of  Chriftiaiiity,  will  difpel  its 
darkeft  Terrors  ;  and  fince  Idalio  and  Jpelks,  Poets 
and  Painters,  with  all  their  fprightly  Airs,  are  borne 
away  with  the  reft  of  Mankind  by  the  fweeping  Tor- 
rent  of  Time,  let  us  hold  the  Period  of  Life  ever  m 
cur  YiQW)  lct  us  all  keep  our  Spirits  awake,  and  guard 

agaijiii 


in  pROSE  and  Yv.KS-E.       iii 

againft  a  Surprize.  O  may  your  Soul  and  mine  never 
ftart  back  from  the  gloomy  Gate  which  opcns  a  Paf- 
fage  into  the  World  of  Spirits  !  We  know  we  muft, 
leave  our  Flefli  behind  us  in  the  Grave  ;  and  there  let 
it  lie  till  it  hath  finiflied  the  Tirae  of  its  appointed  Pu- 
rification  ;  let  it  lie  and  refine  from  all  the  Dregs  of 
Sin  and  fenfual  Impurities ;  let  it  wait  for  the  Beams 
of  the  laft  Morning,  and  falute  the  Dawn  of  the 
grcat  Rifing  Day.  Glorious  and  furprifing  Day  in- 
deed,  for  the  Reftoration  of  all  the  Orlginalsof  Man- 
kind,  when  Paintings  and  Shadows  fhall  be  no 
more  !  Blefied  Hour,  when  our  Duft,  at  the  crea- 
ting  Call  of  Heavcn,  fliall  ftart  up  into  Man; 
it  fliall  glow  with  ncw  Life  and  immortal  Colours, 
fuch  as  Nature  in  her  gayeft  Scenes  hath  never  dif- 
play'd,  fuch  as  the  Dreams  of  Poets  were  never  able  to 
reprefent,  nor  the  Pallet  of  Titian  cver  knew. 


XXIX. 

Ou  the  Sight  of  ^een  M  a  r  y,  m 
the  Tear  i6^^. 

I. 

T  Saw  th'   IUuftrious   Form,   I  faw 
Bcauty  that  gave  thc  Nations  Law  : 
Her  Eyes,  like  Mercy  on  a  Throne, 
In  condefcending  Grandeur  fliQiie. 

II,.  That 


III        MifcellaneousThoitghts^ 
II. 

That  blooming   Face  !  how  lovely  fair 
Hath  Nature  mix'd  her  Wonders  there  ! 
The  rofy  Morn  fuch  Luftre  fhows 
Glancing  along  the  Scythian  Snows. 

III. 

Her  Shape,  her  Alotion,  and  her  Mein, 
AU  heavenly  ;  fuch  are  Angels  feen, 
When  the  bright  Vifion  grows  intenfe, 
And  Fancy  aids  our  feebler  Senfe. 

IV. 

Earth's  proudeft  Idols  dare  not  vie 
With  fuch  fuperior  Majefty ; 
A  kindling  Vapour  might  as  foon 
Rifefrom  the  Boggs,  and  mate  the  Moon. 

V. 

I'll  call  no  Raphad  from  his  Reft  ; 
Such  Charms  can  never  be  exprefs'd  : 
Pencil  and  Paint  were  never  made 
To  draw  pure  Light  without  a  Shade. 

VI. 

Britain  beholds  her  Queen  with  Pride, 
And  mighty  W  i  l  l  i  a  m  at  her  Side 
Gracing  the  Throne,  while  at  their  Feet 
With  humble  Joy  Three  Nations  mect. 


VII.  Seciue 


in  P R 0 s E  atid  Verse.       113 
VII. 

Secure  of  Empire,  fhe  might  lay 
Her  Crown,  her  Robes,  and  State  away, 
And  'midft  Ten  Thoufand  Nymphs  be  feen  : 
Iler  Beauty  would  proclgim  the  Queen . 

Epanorthosis, 

VIII. 
Her  Guardlan  Angel  heard  my  Song. 
Fond  Man,  (he  cry'd)  forbear  to  wrong 
My  lovely  Charge.     So  vulgar  Eyes 
Gaze  at  the  Stars,  and  praife  the  Skies. 

IX. 

Rudely  they  praife,  who  dwell  below, 
And  Heaven's  true  Glories  never  know, 
Where  Stars  and  Planets  are  no  morc 
Than  Pebbles  fcatter'd  on  the  Floor. 

X. 

So,  where  celeftial  Virtues  joinM 

Form  an  incomparable  Mind, 

Crowns,  Scepters,  Beauties,  Charms  and  Aire, 

Stand  but  as  fhining  Servants  there. 


XXX.  On 


114        Mtfcetlaneous  Thoughts^ 


>  XXX. 

On  the  Effigies  of  his  Royal  Htghnefs, 

G  E  o  R  G  E,  hte  Prince  of  D  e  nm  akk,  and 
Lord  High  Admiral  of  Great-Britain,  made  in  Wax, 
and  feated  at  a  Banquet  near  the  Effigies  of  her  late. 
Majejly  ^ieen  A  n  n  e. 

Jll  happily  perfarm^ d  in  a  very  ncar  hnitation  of 
the  Life,  by^^C  UKY  sis.    1705. 

C  O  Iook'd  the  Hero,   coming  from  the  Board 

Of  Naval  Counfels,  and  put  ofF  his  Sword. 
So  fat  the  Prince,  when  with  a  fmiling  Air 
He  relifh'd  Life,  and  pleas'd  his  Sovereign  Fair, 
Surprifing  Form  !  fcarce  with  a  fofter  Mein 
Did  his  firft  Love  addrefs  his  future  Q_u  e  e  N. 
Publifli  the  Wonder,  Fame.*     But  O  !  forbear 
T'  approach  the  Palace  and  the  Royal  Ear, 
Left  her  impatient  Love  and  wifliing  Eye 
Seek  the  dear  Image,  gaze,  and  mourn,  and  dic. 
Or  ftay  :  The  Royal  Mourner  will  believe 
Her  G  E  o  R  G  e  reftor'd,  and  fo  forget  to  grieve. 
What  cannot  Chryfs  do  ?  Thofe  artful  Hands 
Shall  raife  the  Hero  :   Lo,  in  Arms  he  ftands : 

*  This  Poem  was  written  juji  aftcr  Prince  G  e  0  R  c  eV 
Deaih. 

Fajr  bou  rn 


if/  Prose  andVEKSE.       115: 

FAiRBOURN*andLEAK*  fubmiflive  fhall  efpy 
War  on  his  Brow,  and  Orders  in  his  Eye, 
Aufpicious,  Juft,  and  Wife  :  The  Fleet  obeys, 
And  the  French  Pyrates  flee  the  Briti/fj  Seas. 

*  Tm  Britifta  Admirah. 


XXXI. 

To  V  E  L  I N  A,  011  the  D  E  A  T  H  of  feve^ 
ral  joung  ChHdren. 

T.Have  (cqw  a  comely  Fruit-tree  Ln  thc  Summer- 
Seafon,  with  the  Branches  of  it  promifmg  plen- 
teous  Fruit  ;  the  Stock  was  furrounded  with  feven  or 
eight  little  Shoots  of  difFerent  Sizes,  that  grew  up  from 
the  Root  at  a  fmall  diftance,  and  feemed  to  compofe  a 
beautiful  Defence  and  Ornament  for  tlie  Mother- 
Trce  :  But  the  Gardener,  who  efpied  their  Growth, 
knew  tlie  Danger  j  he  cut  down  thofe  tender  Suckers 
one  after  another,  and  laid  them  in  the  Duft.  -t 
pitied  them  in  my  Heart,  and  faid,  How  pretty  were 
thefe  young  Stamiards  !  hczu  tnuch  like  the  Farent  !  how 
elegantly  cloathed  with  tl?e  Raiviettt  of  Swnmer  !  and  each 
cf  them  might  have  groiun  to  a  fruitful  Trce  :  But 
thcy  ftood  fo  near  as  to  endanger  the  Stock  ;  they 
drew  away  the  Sap,  the  Heart  and  Strength  of  it, 
fo  far  as  to  injure  the  Fruit,    and  darken  the  hopeful 

Profpe6t 


ii^        Mtfcellaneous  Thotights, 

Profpeil  of  Autumn.  The  Pruning-knlfe  appeared 
unkind  indeed,  but  the  Gardener  was  wife  j  for  the 
Tree  flourifh'd  more  fenfibly,  the  Fruit  quickly  grew 
fair  and  large,  and  the  In-gathering  at  laft  was  plen- 
teous  and  joyful. 

W I  L  L  you  give  me  Leave,  Velina^  to  perfuade 
you  into  thls  Parable  ?  Shall  I  compare  you  to  this 
Tree  in  the  Garden  of  G  o  d  ?  Your  agreeable 
Quallfications  feem  to  promife  various  Fruits,  of  Faith, 
of  Lcve,  of  univerfal  Holinefs  and  Service  :  You  hav^ 
had  many  of  tljefe  young  Suckers-  fpringing  up  around 
■you  ;  they  ftood  a-while  your  fweet  Ornaments  and 
your  Joy  ;  and  e?xh  of  theni  might  have  grown  up  to 
a  Perfe6lion  of  Likenefs,  and  each  might  have  become 
a  Parent-Tree  :  But  fay,.  D/d  they  never  draw  your 
Heart  off"  from  G  o  d  ?  Did  you  never  feel  them 
ftealing  any  of  thofe  Seafons  of  Devotion,  or  thofe 
warm  Affedions  that  were  firft  and  fupremely  due  to 
him  that  made  you  r  Did  they  iiot  ftand  a  little  too 
near  your  Soul  ?  And  when  they  have  been  cut  off 
fucceflively,  and  laid  one  after  another  in  the  Duft, 
haVe  you  not  found  your  Heart  runnlng  out  more  to- 
ward  G  o  D,  and  living  more  perpetually  upon  him  ? 
Are  you  not  now  devoting  yourfelf  more  entirely  to 
G  o  D  every  Day,  fince  the  laft  was  taken  away  ? 
Are  you  not  aimlng  at  fome  greater  Fruitfulnefs  and 
Servlce  than  In  Times  paft  ?  If  fo,  then  replne  not  at 
the  Pruning-knife,  but  adore  the  Condu<^  of  the  hea- 
venly  Husbandman,  and  fay,  "  AU  his  Ways  are  Wif- 
t'  dom  and  Mercv."  B  u  T 


in  Prose  and  Y  zkse.       117 

B  u  T  I  have  not  yet  done  with  my  Parable. 

W  H  E  N  the  Granary  was  well  ftored  with  excel. 
lent  Fruit,  and  before  Winter  came  upon  the  Tree 
the  Gardener  toolc  it  up  by  the  Roots,  and  it  appeared 
as  dead.  But  his  Defign  was  not  to  deftroy  it  utterly  ; 
for  he  removed  it  far  away  from  that  Spot  of  Earth 
where  it  had  ftood,  and  planted  it  in  a  Hill  of 
richer  Mold,  which  was  fuflicient  to  nourifh  it  with 
all  its  Attendants.  The  Spring  appeared,  the  Tree 
budded  into  Life  again,  and  all  thofe  fair  httle  Stan- 
dards  that  had  been  cut  ofF,  broke  out  of  the  Ground 
afrefh,  and  ftood  up  around  it  (a  fweet  young  Grove) 
flourifhing  in  Beauty  and  immortal  Vigour. 

Y  o  u-  know  no w  where  you  are,  p'eii/2a,  and  that  I 
have  carried  you  to  the  Hill  of  Paradife,  to  the  blefled 
Hour  of  the  Refurredlion,  What  an  unknown  Joy 
will  it  be,  when  you  have  fulfiiled  all  the  Fruits  of' 
Righteoufnefs  in  this  lowerWorld,  to  be  tranfplanted  to 
that  heavenly  Mountain  !  What  a  Divine  Rapture  and 
Surprife  of  Bleflednefs,  to  fee  all  your  little  Offspring  a- 
round  you  that  Day,  fpringing  out  of  the  Duft  at  once, 
making  a  fairer  and  brighter  Appearance  in  that  upper 
Garden  of  G  o  d,  and  rejoycing  together,  (a  fweet 
Company)  all  Partakers  with  you  of  the  fame  happy 
Immortality  !  all  fitted  to  bear  hcavenly  Fruk,  with- 
out  the  need  or  danger  of  a  Pruning-knife.  Look 
forward  by  Faith  to  this  glQiious  Mgfning,  and  ad. 

mirc 


ii8        Mlfcellaneoiis  Thoughts, 

mire  the  whole  Scheme  of  Providence  and  Gracc, 
Give  chearful  Honours  beforehand  to  your  Almighty 
and  AU-wife  Govcrnor,  who  by  his  unfearchable 
Counfels  has  fulfilled  your  bcft  Wifhes,  and  fecured 
your  dear  Infants  to  you  for  ever,  tho'  not  juft  in  your 
own  Way ;  that  blefled  Hand  which  made  the  painful 
Separation  on  Earth,  {hall  join  you  and  your  Bgbes 
together  in  his  own  heavenly  Habitation,  never  to  be 
divided  again,  tho'  the  Method  may  be  painful  to 
Flefh  and  Blood.  Fathers  fhall  not  hope  in  vain,  nor 
Mothers  hring  forth  for  Trouble ;  They  are  ths  Seed  -of  the 
hleffed  of  the  Lord,  and  their  Offspring  with  them,  Ifaiah 
Ixiii.  23.  Then  fhall  you  fay,  Lord,  here  am  /,  and 
the  Children  that  thoii  haft  givcn  me.  For  he  is  your 
•Gody  and  the  God  of  your  Seed  in  an  everlafiing  Covenant. 
Amen. 


I 


XXXII. 

E  A  R  T  H,  H  E  A  V  E  N,  and  H  E  L  L. 

Ha  V  E  often  trled  to  ftrip  Death  of  its  fright- 
ful  Colours,  and  make  all  the  terrible  Airs  of  it 
vanifti  into  Softnefs  and  Delight :  To  this  End,  a- 
mong  other  Rovings  of  Thought,  I  have  fometimes 
illuftrated  to  myfelf  the  whole  Creation,  as  one  ira- 
-inenfe  Building,  with  difter^nt  Apartments,  all  under 

the 


in  P R o  s E  and  Verse.       119 

the  inimediate  Pofleinon  and  Government  of  the  great 
Creator, 

O  N  E  fort  of  thefe  Manfions  are  littlej  narrow, 
dark,  damp  Rooms  ;  where  there  is  much  Confine- 
ment,  very  Httle  good  Company,  and  fuch  a  Clog 
upon  ones  natural  Spirits,  that  a  Man  cannotThink  or 
Talk  with  Treedom,  nor  exert  his  Underftanding,  or 
any  of  his  Intelleclual  Powers  with  Glory  or  Pleafure, 
This  is  the  Earth  in  whicli  we  dwell. 

A  S  E  coN  D  fort  are  fpacious,  hghtfome,  alry  and 
ferene  Courts,  open  to  the  Summer-Sky,  or  at  leaft 
admitting  all  the  valuable  Quahties  of  Sun  and  Air^ 
without  the  Inconveniencies ;  where  there  are  Thou- 
fands  of  moft  dehghtful  Companions,  and  every  thing 
that  can  give  one  Pleafure,  and  make  one  capable  and 
fit  to  give  Pleafure  to  others.  This  is  the  Heaven  we 
hope  for. 

A  T  H  I  R  D  fort  of  Apartments  are  open  and  fpa- 
cious  too,  but  under  a  Wintry-Sky,  with  perpetual 
Storms  of  Hail,  Rain  and  Wind,  Thunder,  Lightning, 
iind  every  thing  that  is  painful  and  offenfive  ;  and  all 
this  among  Millions  of  wretched  Companions  curfing 
the  Placc,  tormenting  one  another,  and  each  endea- 
vouring  to  incicafe  the  publick  and  univ^rfal  Mifery. 
This  is  Hill, 

Now 


120       Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

No  w  what  a  dreadful  Thing  it  is  to  be  driven  out 
of  one  of  the  firft  narrow  dusky  Cells,  into  the  Third 
fort  of  Apartment,  where  the  Change  of  the  Room  is 
infinitely  the  worfe  ?  No  wonder  that  Sinners  are  a- 
fraid  to  die.  But  why  {hould  a  Soul  that  has  good 
HopCjthrough  Grace,  of  entring  into  the  ferene  Apr.rt- 
ment,  be  unwilling  to  leave  the  narrow  fmoaky  Prifon 
he  has  dwelt  in  fo  long,  and  under  fuch  Loads  of  In- 
convenicnce  ? 

D  E  A  T  H  to  a  good  Man,  is  but  paffing  tlirough  a 
dark  Entry,  out  of  one  Httle  dusky  Room  of  his  Fa- 
ther's  Houfe,  into  another  that  is  fair  and  large» 
lightfome  and  glorious,  and  divinely  entertaining,  O 
may  the  Rays  and  Splendors  of  my  heavenly  Apart- 
ment  ihoot  far  downward,  and  gild  the  dark  Entry 
with  fuch  a  chearful  Gleam,  as  to  banifh  every  Fear 
when  I  fliall  be  called  to  pafs  through  ! 


XXXIII. 
A  HoRNETS  Nest  dejfrofd. 

TT7  HA  T  curious  little  Creatures  were  thefe  \  hcw 

bright  and  beautiful   the   Body  of  them  !  how 

nimble  and  fprightly  the  feveral  Limbs !  how  fwift  the 

VVing  of  this  Infe<^  for  Flight,  and  the  Sting  as  dread- 

ful 


in  P  R  0  s  E  and  V  e  r  S  e.        iii 

fyl  for  its  own  Defence,  and  for  the  Punifliment  of 
thofe  that  hurt  it.  What  rich  Contrivance  is  therc 
in  all  thc  invifible  Springs  of  this  little  Enginc  !  and 
yet  hcrc  arc  llioufands  of  them  deftroy'd  at  once,  and 
rcduced  to  coinmon  Earth. 

l  r  any  Artift  amongft  Mcn  could  have  framed 
hijt  one  fuch  a  wonderful  Machine  as  this,  it  would 
jiavc  been  fold  for  Thoufands  of  Gold  and  Silvcr,  it 
wouid  ha\  e  been  valued  at  the  Price  of  Royal  Trea- 
fures,  and  tliougiit  flt  only  for  the  Cabinet  of  thc 
grcateft  Princes.  The  Deftru6tion  of  fuch  a  rare 
Piecc  of  Workmanfhip  would  have  been  an  uncom- 
ixrnfable  Lofs  araong  Men  ;  but  'tis  the  Work  of 
G  o  D,  and  here  are  Thoufands  of  thefe  elegant  Struc- 
tu.rcs  dcmolifhed,  and  caft  out  to  the  Dunghill,  with- 
out  any  Concern  or  Injury  to  G  o  d  or  Man.  GIo- 
rious  Uideed,  and  all  Divine  is  the  Magnificence  of 
tiic  grcat  Creator !  With  what  a  Profufion  doth  hc 
pour  out  the  Riches  of  his  Art,  even  amongft  thc 
uieaner  Parts  of  the  Creation  !  he  makcs  yearly  Mil- 
lions  of  thefe  Animals  without  Labour,  and  he  can 
part  with  Millions  out  of  his  Kingdom  without  Lofs. 

Y  E  T.  thefe  are  not  fuperfluous  or  ufelefs  Beings  in 
thc  Dominions  of  G  o  d.  There  was  a  time  when  he 
raifed  an  Army  of  them,  and  fent  them  upon  a  great 
-  Expcdition,  to  drivc  the  Nations  of  the  Canaanitei  and 
ihcir  Kings  out  of  their  own  Land,  when  he  would 
plant  hib  belovcd   Ifrael  there,  E^od.  xxiii.  28.  'JojZ 

G  xxiv'~ 


tzi,         MtfceUaneotisTboughts, 

xxiv.  1 2.  Thus  he  knows  how  to  employ  them, 
'when  and  where  he  pleafes  :  But  he  gives  Leave  to 
vcvery  Man  to  deftroy  their  Nefts  and  thelr  Armies, 
wherefoever  .they  become  a  Nuifance  to  him  ;  for  if 
Jie  want  them  himfelf,  he  can  fummon  them  from 
the  moft  diftant  Parts  of  the  World,  and  they  ftiall 
•come  at  his  firft  Call.  He  can  hfs  for  the  Fly  thatii 
in  the  .uttermoji  Parts  of  Egypt,  and  the  Bee  that  is  in 
ihe  Land  of  A^yx\2iy  Ifa.\n.  i8.  and  they  ftiall  range 
themfelves  under  his  Banner  to  execute  his  dreadful 
Commiflion.  Or  if  the  whole  Creation  does  not  af- 
ford  Legions  of  them  fufficient  for  his  Purpofe,  He, 
Vfho  could  animate  the  Duft  of  the  Earth  into  LicCj 
£xod.  viii.  i6.  can  command  all  the  Sands  of  theSea 
anto  fwarms  of  Hornets  j  or  he  can  call  Millions  out 
«f  Nothing  into  Being  with  a  VVord,  all  drefs'd  in 
their  proper  Livery,  and  armed  with  their  Stings  to 
carry  on  his  War .  What  can  be  wanting  to  that 
G  o  D  who  has  all  the  uncreated  and  unknown  World 
©f  Poffibles  within  the  Reach  of  his  Voice  ?  Rom.  iv, 
11.  He  calUth  the  Things  that  are  not,  as  tho'  thty 
mere. 


XXXIV. 


in  PROSE  and  Verse.       113 


XXXIV. 

ClTATIONS  and  I N  S  G  RI  P  T  I  0  N  S. 

A  N  C I  E  N  T  Cuftom  and  modern  Fafhien  are 
two  fovereign  Tyrants,  who  bear  aJmoft  aauni- 
verfal  Sway  over  the  Pradices  of  Mankind.  They 
are  diredly  oppofite  to  each  other,  and  they  fliare 
the  Empire  of  the  World  between  them.  The 
Learned  and  the  Mighty,  as  well  as  the  Poor  and  the 
Foohfh,  obey  thelr  Diilates  without  further  F.nquiry, 
and  fubmit  all  to  their  Autliority,  witliout  Referve, 
and  without  Reafon. 

W  H  Y  did  the  Perfiam  worfhip  the  Fire,  and  tlie 
Chinefe  the  Souls  of  their  Anceflors  ?  Why  do  the 
Papi/ls  fay  their  Prayers  in  Latin,  and  the  Jezus  wafh 
their  Hands  always  before  cating  ?  'Twas  the  Ufacrc 
of  ancient  Ages,  and  thc  Cuflom  of  their  Fathers, 
Why  did  the  Ladies  of  Great-Britain  wear  Ri.fFi  and 
Fardingals  a  Century  and  a  half  ago  ?  and  why  do 
the  M^n  of  P^afhion  now  a-days  keep  two  Knots  of 
Hair  ever  dangling  on  their  Shoulders,  with  one  lon''- 
Curl  hehind  ?  Does  Nature  find  fo  niuch  Con\'eni- 
ence,  or  fpy  fo  much  Dccency  in  it.  Neither  of  the 
two  i  but  ftill  tlJ6re'5  fuppofed  to  be  Reafon  enough 

G  2        .  for 


if  14       MifcellaneoHs  Tbou^hts, 

.for  any  of  thgfe  Oddities^  fmce  'tls  the  prefent  Modc. 
The  Mode  will  foon  reconciip  Fa/icy  to  the  moft 
;3ukward  Appeariinces,  and  the.rrioft  incommodioua 
Prac^ice^  ;  But  If  Naturc,  Reafbn,  and  Convenience, 
.rnake  never  lb  loud  R^inonflraRces,  they  jnuft  all 
ftand  afide  and  rubmif,  whije  fome  pld  Cujipms  and 
foms  mu  Fiifimi  pronounce  their  abfalyta  P^cree? 
concerning  a  thoufand  Things,  ?.nd  determine  v/ith- 
tui  Appeal  i 

Yet  if  Reafon,  or  Reilglon,  m^hfc  have  leave 

;to  put  in  a  VVord,  methinks  tJjcr-j  Bre  fome  ancient 

Fafhlonf!  which  {hould  never  hAve  besn  &ntii'iufited,  Jis 

wcll  s^  thijri?  are  fome  new  pnes  which  ihoviid  nevef 

.have  been  fuffered  to  Rrife. 

-'T  w  A  .8  a  Faftiipn  among  oiir  Grandfathers,  to 
cite  ft  worthy  or  elegant  S^menee  fjom  fome  Au» 
thor  of  cflftblifhed  Fi^me^  and  tbfit  in  ilieir  Cvn\'crfft- 
tion,  »6  well  m  th^lr  Writlnga ;  They  wQuld  uhufe  to 
.cxpfers  their  Sehtiments  Jr»  thebfightandb^utiiul  Lan» 
^uagg  ef  lome  ancient  Ppet  pr  Philojopher,  whlch  g£^ve 
new  Life  and  Strengtb  to  the  Per iod  :  But  for  thefe 
fifty  Years  paft  yow  gain  the  Nfime  of  a  M^///^,  if 
you  affrcjnt  the  mo<iifli  World  with  a  tvife  nnd  piQus 
.Siiyipg  bPf  rqwed  from  one  of  ihe  Ancients  ii^  their 
=own  Lanjuaffc. 

"I    w  I  L  L   crant  indeed,   that    'twas  a  Piecc  of 
iVidc,  Vanity  and  Impertinence  in  fome  who  lived  in 

the 


in  Prose  and  VerS£.      rtf 

\\\t  laft  CertturV;  -to  iiiterlln^  ttl!  thetr  Di(c;ourfe5,  aii^' 
blmoft   dver»/  JPage   of    thfelr  Books,   *ivith  psrpetuat! 
Scfapg  of  G/Tf/^  and  UtUi ;  nfid  it  bccame  )'ct  mofe  ■ 
lidiculousinSerrilons  And  ihT i^e^iles  whi^h  Wcf^  ^fic- 
tenbnly  for  (hc  Ufc  of  the  En^HJhVfoi\di  who  knew 
nothinsr  but  their  Mother-Tonsud  }  but  muft  fo  uf«;fui. 
and  cnteftaiiling    a   Priictice  be  baniftiM  foi-  Gvcri  bc" ' 
Caufe  it  has  been  abufedj    and  carried  to  Extreams  ? 
Sunpofe   I   have  a    finc  and  noble  Sentiment   in  my 
ri)ought?5  which  I  learned   koin  ■  Senecd   oi'    Ciccnf* 
iltaft  I-be  bound  to  delivffrit  iri  my  owh  1'udel'  Lsh- 
guagej ■  rather  than-  lct  tliofc'  ingenious  Aneients  f|Hnik 
it    in   theit   ovvM)  Phrdf«  ;  fuppofing  always  that  the  ' 
Company  in  which  I  fpeak,  underftand   th§  Roitwt' 
^'ongue  ?  Isit  fuch  a  Crime  t9  kc  Ji4v^inil  q^  Hnac'' 

fj*y  m  Hgfe^able  m^  pefijj^e.nt  ThlHg  fMf  m^  wheii  1 
thereby  confefs  that  I  eafinpt  hy  ai^yThing  myfelf  fo  • 
pertinent  and  fo  agreeable  ?  And  why  may  woi-xDcivid 
or  a  Solomon^  as  well  as  a  Virgil^  a  Milton  or  an  Addijon 
raife  and  dignify  a  Period  now  and  then  with  thcir  no- 
blc,  and  juft,  and  elegant  Lines,  andenUven  a  modern  ' 
Page  with  their  warm  and  fplendid  Images  ?    'Tis  not 
Nature  and   Reafon,    but   merc   Fafliion  that   hatli 
branded  this  Pra^lice  with  thc  odious  Name  of  Furita- 
^ijin^  or  of  Pcdantry  ;    and  I  think  I  may  congratulate  ■ 
thc  prefent  Agc,  that  it  begins  a  httlc   to  bc  rcvivcd^,- 
\en  by  Writers  of  the  firft  Rank. 

jVI  A  Y   I  prcfume  again  to  enquire  why  we  fliould 
abfolutcly  rcnounce  ti)C  P'aftiion  of  our  Forc-fathers^ 
G  3  i2>( 


ii6        Mlfcellafieous  Thoughts^ 

n  adoming  their  Churches  and  their  Houfes  with  the 
wife  and  pious  Sayings  of  Philofophers,  or  of  Pro- 
phets  and  Men  infpir'd  ?  G  o  d  himfelf  invented  this 
Pra<flice,  and  made  it  a  Law  for  the  Jew^,  his  favou- 
rite  People,  that  theyjhould  write  hh  Stctutes  on  the  Pcjls 
cf  their  Houfes,  and  cn  their  Gaies,  to  ftiike  the  Eye 
and  the  Heart  of  all  that  came  in.  Nor  is  there  ary 
tiiing  Superftitious  or  Jeivijb  in  this  Matter  ;  the 
Walls  of  Chrijlian  Temples  were  wont  to  be  infcribcd 
v>'ith  remarkable  Precepts  of  Piety  taken  from  the 
Word  of  G  o  D  ;  Moral  and  Divine  Motto's  were, 
in  former  Centuries,  thought  an  Ornament  to  the 
narrow  Pannels  of  their  Wainfcot,  and  long  and  beau- 
tiful  Sentences  ran  round  the  Cornilh  of  a  private 
Houfe,  and  carried  Virtue  and  Peace  with  them  all 
the  Way.  That  Divine  Rule  of  Equity,  Deal  luith 
sfhers,  as  you  would  have  others  deal  with  you,  has  ftood 
Guard  in  a  Tradefman's  Shop  againft  every  Ap- 
pearance  of  Fraud,  and  every  Temptation  to  over- 
reach  a  Cuftomer.  Clofets  and  Comptlng-Houfes 
often  told  our  Anceftors  their  Duty  when  they  were 
alone  ;  and  their  large  and  fpacious  Halls  taught  Virtue 
and  Goodnefs  to  the  World  in  fair  and  legible  Charac- 
ters.  The  Parlour  and  the  Dining-Room  put  their 
Friends  in  mind  of  G  o  D  and  Heaven,  in  Letters  of 
Vermillion  and  Gold  ;  and  the  Kitchen  and  the 
Out-houfes-inftruded  the  Servants  in  their  Duty,  and 
reproved  them  to  the  Face,  when  they  ventured  to 
praitife  Iniquity  out  of  the  Sight  of  their  Maller. 

I    K  N  o  \v 


tn  pRoss  and  Veksi,       t^J 

I  K  N  o  vv  there's  a  Decorum  to  be  obferved  in  alT 
Xhingsof  tliis  kind.  I  am  not  for  pafting  up  whole 
Pages  of  Moraiity  round  the  Roonris,  nor  filling 
cvcry  naked  Pannel  v,'ith  little  Gothick  Emblems  and 
Ornament*;,  with  ploas  Rhimes  or  Leclures  of  Reli- 
gion  :  But  methinks  we  run  to  a  wide  Extrcam,  when 
we  abfolutely  exclude  every  fuch  Leflbn  of  Virtue 
from  all  tlie  Places  of  our  Refidence.  And  fmce  tlie 
prefent  Mod|e  has  ccndemned  all  thefc  Infcriptions  of 
Truth  and  Goodnefs,  I  know  not  what  is  come  iii-. 
the  room  of  them,  unlef^  it  be  the  filthy  Abufe  of 
Letters,  and  a  lev/d  or  a  profane  Couplct  grave-n  with 
a  Diamond  on  a  Pane  of  Glafs.  Our  Walls  in  Ages- 
paft  v/ore  the  Signaturcs  of  Honour  and  Virtue  ; 
now  there  are  too  many  Windows,  that  as  foon  as 
they  admit  the  Light,.  difcover  our  Shame.  I  won* 
der  how  any  Man  that  pretends  to  Politenefs  and 
Elcgancy,  fhould  fcribble  fuchLinesas  female  Modefty 
ought,  never  to  fee,  and  which  the  rudeft  Tongue  of 
his  own  Sex  ought  never  to  pronounce, 

A  T  other  timcs  you  fliall  find  fome  vile  Reproach 

on  particular  Pcrfons  left  ftanding  on  the  Glafs  to  be 
read  by  future  Comers  j  and  thus  the  Scandal  is  con- 
vey'd  to  Multitudes  in  a  long  Succeftion  ;  and  every 
Rcader,  by  learning  the  unjuft  Reproach,  may  iii 
fome  Senfc  bafaid  to  increafe  th«  Writcr's  Guilt, 

G  ^  U 


ii^        MifcelUneoiis  ThoughtSy 

If  they  muft  write  the  Names  of  their  Miftre/Tcs 
en  the  Windows,  and  delcribe  tlieir  Beauties  there, 
let  them  do  it  in  fuch  Language  as  may  not  oftend 
the  Tongue  of  Modefty  to  repeat,  nor  raife  a  Blufh 
en  the  Cheek  of  Virtue; 

Jfthe  Mufe  lavtjh  her  mmdrtal  Wrt 

To  paint  (i  fidlng  Fact^ 
And  thefirm  Diamitid  thefrail  Honoun  writt 

Upon  thc  brittlc  Glafi^ 
Let  M  foul  Word  poUute  thxt  heavenly  Ray 
irkich  mahci  the  tinci  appear  / 
Lcvodnefi  would  taiht  tU  $un-kami  in  fhelr  Wayi 
Zrwd/hfi  fiiuld  ne^er  bf  readhit  when  htnUghimgip]»»! 
?  >  blijl  the  WriterU  Hand,  and  fi)ake  his  Soul  with  fear. 

I  F  they  wni  write  the  Name  of  a  Friend  or  a 
Stranger  there,  Ifet  it  be  a  Name  of  Wortb  and  Ho- 
nour,  let  it  be  fome  Example  of  Virtue,  and  attend»d 
with  a  due  Encomium, 

A  L  B  I  N  u  s. 

Char  ai  the  Glafi,  his  fpotlefi  Fame, 
And  lajiing  Diamond  writes  his  Name. 

O  R  if  a  Diamond  muft  be  ufed  for  a  Pen,  and  a 
Pane  of  Glafs  muft  be  theTablet  on  which  we  write, 
1  fhould  rather  choofe  that  thofe  pellucid  Mediums 
Which   L-anfmit   thc  Li£bt  of  Heavca  to  our  Eycs, 

ftiouW 


in  P  R  0  s  E  and  V e  r  s  e.       ii^  ^ 

ftiould  convey  fome  Beam  of  facred  Knowledge,  or  ' 
(omQ  ufeful  Memento  to  the  Mind. 

JFords  of  Etmial  Truth  proclaimy  . 

AIl  mortal  Joys  are  vain  : 
A  Diamond  Pen  engraves  the  Them^ 
IJpon  a  brittk  Plain. 


XXXV.- 

Againft  L  e  w  d  N  E  s  s. 
I.: 

TT7  H  Y  (hould  you  let  your  wandrlng  Eyes  > 

Entlce  your  Souls  to  fhameful  Sin  ? 
Scandal.and  Ruin  are  the  Prize, 
You  take  fuch  fatal  Pains  to  wiji.  . 

n. 

This  Brutal  Vice  makes  Reafon  Wind, 
And  blots.the  Name  with  hateful  Stalns ; 

It  waftes  the  Flefh,  pollutes  the  Mind, 
And  tears  the  Hcart  with/'racking  Pains. 

III. 
Ltt  David  fpeak  with  heavy  Groan:;^  , 
How  if  cftrang'd  his  Soul  from  G  o  d, 

G  5  Mad< 


x^o       Mifcellaneous  Tboughu^ 

Made  hlm  complain  of  broken  Bones, 
And  fill'ci  his  Houfe  with  Wars  and  Blood, 

IV. 

Let  Sohmon  and  Samfon  tell 

Their  melancholy  Storles  here, 
How  bright  they  fhone,  how  low  they  fell, 

When  Sin's  vile  Pleafures  coft  them  dear. 

V. 

In  valn  you  choofe  the  darkeft  Time, 

Nor  let  the  Sun  behold  the  Sight : 
2n  vain  you  hope  to  hide  your  Crime^ 

Behind  the  Curtains  of  the  Night  ; 

VI. 

The  vvakeful  Stars  and  Midnight  Moon 

Watch  your  foul  Deeds,  and  kaov/  your  Shame  ; 

And  G  o  d's  own  Eye,  hke  Beams  of  Noon, 

Strikes  through  tlie  Shade,  and  marks  your  Namr. 

VII. 
What  will  ye  do  when  Heav'n  enquircs 

Into  thofe  Scenes  of  fecret  Sin  ? 
And  Luft,    with  all  its  guilty  Fires, 

Shall  raake  your  Confcience  rage  within  ? 
VIII. 
IIow  will  you  curfe  your  wanton  Eyes, 

Curfe  the  lewd  Partners  of  your  Shame, 
When  Death  with  horrible  Surprize 

Sbews  you  the  Pit  of  quenchlefs  Flame  ? 

IX»  Fleet 


^  pRosE  ^^  Verse.      ni 


IX. 

FIcc,  Sinners,  flee  th'  unlawflil  Bed, 
Left  Vengence  fend  you  down  to  dweff 

Ih  the  dark  Regions  of  the  Dead, 
To  feed  the  fierccft  Fires  of  Hell. 


xxvr. 

Againfi  D  Ru  N  K  E  K  N  E  S  S, 

T. 

T  S  it  not  ftrange  that  every  Creahire 

Should  know  the  Meafure  of  its  Thirft^ 
(They  drink  but  to  fupport  their  Nature, 
And  give  due  Moifture  to  their  DuH  j) 

II. 

VVhile  Man,  vile  Man,  whofe  nobler  kind' 
Should  fcorn  to  a«2  beneath  the  Beaft» 

Drowns  alJ  the  Glories  of  his  Mind, 
And  kills  his  Soul  to  pleafe  his  Tafte  ? 

III. 
O  what  a  hateful,  fhameful  Sighf, 

Are  Drunkards  reeling  through  the  Street  ? 
Now  tljey  are  fond,  and  now  they  fight, 

And  pour  thdt  Shamc  on  all  they  mect. 


IV.  r 


1^1        Mifiellaneous  Thoughtfy 
IV. 

Is  it  fo  exquifite  a  Pleafure 

To  troll  down  Liquor  through  the  Throat, 
And  fwi]],  and  know  no  Bound  nor  Meafure, 

'Till  Senfe  andReafen-are  forgot  ? 

V,, 
Do  they  deferve  th'  immortal  Name 

Of  Alun^  who  fmk  fo  far  below  ? 
Wil]  G  o  D,  the  Maker  of  their  Frame 

Endurc  to  fec  them  fpoil  it  fo  ? 

vn 

Can  they  e'er  think  of  Heaven  and  Grace, 
Or  hope  for  G]ory  when  tliey  die  ? 

(ian  fuch  vile  Ghofts  expe£l  a  Place 
Among  the-ihining  Souls-on  high  ? 

VII. 
The  meanefl  Seat  is  too  refin'd 

To  entertain  a  Drunkard  there. 
Ye  Sinners  of  thi^  loathfome  Kindj 

Repent,  or  pciifti  in  Defpaifs  , 


XXXiVI.. 


m  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       tjy 


XXXVII. 
V  A  N  I  T  Y  Confeffd. 

)>-p\V"AS  a  ftrange  and  thoughtlefs  Expreflion  of 
a.  very  ingenious.*  Author,  *'  Among  all  the 
"  Millions  of,  Vices^.f^^-^  /;£■)  ♦hat .  I.  inherit  .from 
"  Adam,  I  have  efcaped  the  firft  and  Father-Sin  of 
**  Pride  :  "  And  he  goes  on  to  prove  it  by  aflerting  his 
Humility,  after  many  boafted  Inftances  of  his  Learn- 
ing  and  Acquirements.  Surely  (thought  I)  this  Man 
li-vcd  mucKabroad,  and  converfed  but  little  at  home  ; 
he  knew  rauch  of  the-World,  but  hewas  not  ae- 
quainted  with  himfelf ;  and  while  he  pradliles  his  Va- 
nity  in  fo  publick  a  manner,  he  ftrongly  deuies  that 
any  belongs  to  him. 

Senom  was  a  Man  of  a  more  mortified  Soulj  a.-fa- 
gacious  Self-Enquirer  while  he  lived ;  and  among  his 
moft  fecret  Papers  which  efcaped  the  Flames,  this 
following  Soliloquy  was  found  after  his  Death.  How 
paflionately  does  he,  mourn  this  Frailty,  and  with 
whaL  a- bccoming  Senfe  doth  he  lamcnt  and  bev/ail 
this  original  Blemifti  of  his  Nature  -I  'Tvvas  written 
before  he  arrived  at  his  facred  Dignity,  but  it  difcovers 
the  Sentiments  and  the  Piety  which  attended  him 
iKough  all  his  Life. 

*  Dr,  Brown,  in  bis  Religio  Medici. 

P.B    I  P 


134        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

P  R  I  D  E  (faith  he)  is  fo  extenfive,  fo  univerfal 
a  Difeafe  of  Mankind,  that  I  know  no  part  of  the  In- 
feilion  which  we  derive  from  our  firft  Father,  that 
has  fo  intimately  mingled  itfelf  with  the  whole  Mafs 
of  Blood,  has  fo  much  corrupted  our  beft  Powers,. 
and  runs  without  Exception  through  the  whole  Race, 
Methinks  I  can  fcarce  move,  or  fpeak,  but  I  feel  the 
fccret  Poifon  working,  and  I  am  betray'd  at  every 
Turn  into  new  Folly  and  Guilt  by  this  flattering  and 
fubtile  Enemy. 

I  r  I  am  accepted  in  Company,  and  find  Fa- 
vour  among  Men,  how  ready  am  I  to  impute  it  to 
my  own  Merit  !  and  if  I  meet  with  Reproach,  how 
does  my  Heart  fwell  againft  the  Tongue  that  uttered 
it,  and  I  begin  to  charge  the  ignorant  World  that 
they  have  not  known  me !  or  I  accufe  them  fecretly  of 
doing  Injuftice  to  my  Charader  ^  for  I  fancy  myfelf 
to  have  defcrved  the  Honours  of  Mankind,  and  not 
their  Cenfures. 

T  H  I  s  adive  Iniquity  is  never  at  reft  ;  whether 
I  have  to  do  with  G  o  d  or  Man,  it  befets  me  on 
every  Side,  it  breaks  the  Commands  of  the  firft  Ta- 
ble,  as  weil  as  the  fecond,  detracls  frora  the  Honour 
that  I  owe  to  my  Maker,  and  the  Charity  due  to  my 
Fellow-Creatures. 

I  D  E  V  o  T  E  myfelf  and  all  my  Powers  to  G  o  d 
in  the  Morning,  and  I  think  I  do  it  with  folemn 

Sin- 


/«  Prose  tfwi  Verse.       13 f 

Sincerlty  :  Then  I  meditate,  I  compofe,  or  perhaps 
I  preach,  and  difFufe  the  Knowledge  and  the  Gk>ry 
of  Chri/i,  my  Lord  :  But  if  fome  fhining  Thoughc 
break  into  my  Meditations,  how  fond  am  I  to  fpread 
and  drefs  it,  to  make  Self  fhine  a  little  ;  and  thus 
facrilegioufly  attempt  to  fhare  the  Honour  that  is  due 
alone  to  my  Saviour  and  his  Gofpel  !  how  clofely  doth 
this  Serpent-Iniquity  twine  about  my  Nature,.  and  de» 
file  my  moft  religious  Services  !  Often  do  I  aflume 
thofe  Lines  in  my  Lips,  and  with  the  pleafing  Pain 
that  belongs  to  Repentance,  I  appropriatc  the  Words 
to  myfelf,  as  tho'  I  had  been  the  Author  of  them 

'Tis   Pride^  that  bufy   Sin, 
Spoih  all  that   I  perform ; 
Curji  Pride,  that   creeps  fecurely  in^ 
Jnd  fwelh  a  haughty  Worm  ! 

I F  I  begin  to  write  any  Divlne  Thoughts  In 
Verfe,  to  entertain  myfelf  or  my  Fellow-Chriftians 
with  holy  Melody,  I  find  this  Tempter  at  my  right 
Hand,  abufmg  my  Poef/,  to  ths  ruin  of  my  Re- 
ligion.  — 

My  God^  the  Songs  I  frame 

Are  faithlefs  to  thy  Caufe^ 
And  fieal  the  Honours  of  thy  Nanii 

To  build  their  oiun  Applaufe. 

SoMETiMES  I  raife  my  Thoughts  a  littk  te 
contemplate  my  Crcator  in  the  jiuraerous  Wonders  of 


1-3  ^        Mifiellaneous  Thoughts^ 

his  Power  and  Wifdom,  in  his  inimltable  Per- 
fe6lions,  and  in  the  Majefty  and  Gcandeur  of 
his  Nature  j  I  fall  down  before  him,  confound- 
ed  in  his  Prefcnce.:  My  own  Ideas  of  his  tran- 
fcendent  Excellency  overwhelm  me  with.  a  Senfe 
of  my  own  Meannefs,  and  I  lay  myfelf  low  in  the 
Duft, .  whence  I  and  all  my  Fore-fathers  fprang  ;  but 
perhaps  a  fudden  Momcnt  turns  my  Thought  afide  to 
my  Brethren,  my.  FelJow-Mortals  i  and  when  I 
imagine  myfelf  fuperior  to  fome  of  them,  the  Worm 
that  lay  level  with  the  Duft  begins  to  fwell  and  rife 
agairi,  and  a  vain  Self-Comparifon  with  Creatures  in- 
terrupts  the  humble  Proftrations  of  my  Soul,  and 
fpoils  my  Devotion  to  my  G  o  D. 

A  ND  here  'tis  very  aftonifhing  to  confider  upon 
what  Trifles  of  Circumftance  fo^lifh  Man  is  ready  to 
exalt  himfelf  above  his  Neighbour :  I  am  even  aftia- 
med  to  think,  that  when  I  ftand  among  Perfons  of  a 
low  Stature,  and  a  mean  outward  Appearance,  (efpe- 
ciaUy  if  they  are  utter  Strangers)  I  am  ready  to  look 
downward  upon  their  Undertakings,  as  beneath  ray 
own,  becaufe  Nature  has  formed  my  Limbs  by  .  a 
larger  Model,  has  raifed  this  anlma!  Bulk  upon- 
higher  PlUars,  and  given  me  a  full  and  florid  AfpecSi. 
Rldlculous  Thought,  and  wiid  Imagination !  as  tho' 
the  Size  and  Colour  of  the  Brwte  wsre  the  proper 
Meafure  to  judge  of  the-  Man  ! 


At 


ift 


Pk  osE  andVz^s^.       13  7 


At  another  Time,  wheji  I  have  been  engaged  In 
frec  Difcourre,  I  have  heard  a  fprightly  Youth  talk 
nioft  peftinently  on  ti^c  propored  Subjedt,  but  I  felt  fliy- 
fclf  re:i<\y  befofe-hand  to  defpire  whateVer  he  fhould  fay, 
bccaufe  I  happened  to  be  born  ten  Yeai-s  befoJ-e  him  } 
and  yet  how  wretchedly  inconfiftent  is  this  Diilempei" 
of  Mind  !  fof  I  Was  tempted  the  next  Moment  to  neg- 
\cct  what  was  fpoken  by  a  grave  Gentleman  prefent, 
becauie  lie  was  borntwcntvYears  before  me  :  My  own 
Vanity  would  perfuade  me  that  the  onc  was  fo  much 
youngcr  than  I,  that  he  had  not  yet  arrived  at  Senfe, 
and  the  other  (o  much  older,  that  he  had  forgot  it, 

I  r  r  N  B  it  i5  m%  Ymtb  or  A^i,  but  'tii  Sflf  i^  the 
Idol  and  the  Temptatlon,  My  foolifli  Heart  Js  apt 
to  fay  withitt  itfelf,  evcn  when  I  am  in  the  midft  of 
Perfons  of  Thought  and  Sagacity,  "  Methinks  they 
*^  ihould  all  be  of  my  Mind  when  I  havegivcn  my  Opi- 
»*  nion  ;"  and  I  feel  a  fecret  Inclination  to  flattcr  my 
own  Judgment,  tho'  I  condemn  tlie  young  and  the 
old.  Thus  is  Pride  bufy  and  zealous  to  exait  Self  on 
every  Occafion,  to  fet  up  the  Jdol,  and  make  all  bow 
down  to  it. 

T  H  E  s  E  fdent  and  unfeen  Turns  of  Thought 
within  me  are  fo  impudent,  and  fo  unreafonable,  that 
I  cannot  bear  to  let  'em  appear  even  before  my  own 
Judgment  :  I  fcarce  bring  them  to  a  Trial,  for  I 
Hjjow  they  are  Evil  ;  I  condeinn  them  aj  foon  as  they 

are 


138        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

are  born,  I  banifh  them  for  ever  from  my  Soul,  anJ 
forbid  their  Return.  But  e're  I  am  aware  they  will 
come  to  their  old  native  Seat  again,  in  fpight  of  all 
the  Laws  and  Rules  of  Reafon  and  Religion  ;  they 
overleap  all  the  Bars  and  Fences  that  I  raife  perpetually 
to  keep  them  out.  This  wicked  Pride  is  a  home-born 
and  domeftick  Enemy,  it  knows  every  Avenue  of  the 
Soul,  and  is  hardly  excluded  even  by  the  fevereft 
Watchfulnefs. 

W  E  are  fo  fond  to  appear  ahvays  in  tlie  riglit,  that 
I  find  myfelf  to  need  a  good  degree  of  Self-Denial,  in 
order  to  believe  that  Truth  is  Truth,  when  I  have 
happened  to  fall  into  a  different  Sentiment ;  and  what 
is  this  but  Pride  of  Heart  ?  I  need  not  go  far  back- 
ward  in  my  Life,  to  find  an  Inftance  of  this  Folly  or 
Madnefs  j  fomething  of  this  kind  fo  often  occurs, 

T  H  R  E  E  Days  ago  I  was  relatlng  an  Affair  of 
great  Confequence,  and  was  oppofed  in  my  Narra- 
tive  by  a  Friend,  who  knew  the  whole  Story  perfeilly : 
I  felt  my  Heart  unwilling  to  yield  to  his  Oppofition, 
tho'  tbe  Reafonings  that  attended  his  Narration  car- 
ried  fuperior  Light  and  Force  in  them  ;  I  was  hardly 
convinced  that  I  was  in  the  wrong,  till  I  had  left  the 
Company  and  bethought  myfelf.  This  curfed  Con- 
ceit  !  how  it  blinds  the  Eyes  to  Reafon,  and  bars  our 
Convidlion  !  And  'tis  the  fame  Difeafe  of  the  Mind 
that  prevents  our  Confeffion  of  an  Error,  even  when  we 
are  inwardly  convinced  of  it ;    'Tis  Pride  that  cramps 

the 


/>/  pRoSE  and  Verse.       13^ 

the  Organs  of  Speech,  and  makes  thefe  Words,  /  wai 
vnjlaken^  fo  hard  to  pronounce  in  every  Language. 

W  H  E  N  I  am  debating  a  Polnt  of  Controverfy, 
how  much  am  I  pleafed  when  I  overcome  !  and  how 
reaJy  do  I  find  my  Tongue  to  contend  for  Vi(Sory, 
too  often  with  greater  Solicitude  than  for  Truth  !  I 
feel  the  Mifchief  working,  tho'  I  hate  it.  I  look  in- 
ward,  I  blufli  and  chide  myfelf;  but  in  the  next 
Company  Nature  returns,  tlie  inward  Diftemper  ftirs 
again,  I  am  ambitious  of  Conqueft  in  the  next  Di- 
fpute  ;  yet  I  profefs  to  be  a  Phihfopher^  a  Difciple  of 
Wifdom,  and  a  Lover  of  Truth  i  but  I  feel  I  am  a 
Son  of  Adam. 

I  w  A  T  c  H  againft  the  firft  Rifings  of  thls  In- 
bred  Evil,  but  'tis  beforehand  with  me  :  I  refolve  to 
fpeak  my  Sentiments  with  a  modeft  Aire,  but  Vanity 
fits  upon  my  Lips,  and  forms  the  Sentence,  or  at 
leaft  gives  fome  fwelling  Accents  to  the  Sound  :  Then 
I  figh  inwardly  at  the  fudden  Reproach,  TVhat  a  vain 
IVretch  am  I !  and  ftiould  condemn  myfelf  as  the  very 
vileft  Piece  of  Human  Nature,  if  I  did  not  obferve  the 
fame  FoUy  working  at  my  right  Hand  and  at  my 
left,  and  (hewing  itfelf  all  round  me  in  a  Variety  of 
Shapes.  Were  all  the  Progcny  of  Eve  to  be  fummon- 
ed  to  the  Bar  of  God,  and  tricd  upon  this  Indidt- 
ment, 

Jlasfor  poor  Mankind  !  Nor  Sex  not  Age  isfree  : 
lf7?a(  ivQidd  becme  of  Man  ?  IVhat  would  become  ofme  .^ 

Vaniffo 


140        MtfcelUneous  thbughts^ 

Vamjjo  was  in  Cortiparty  while  this  Pap^r  was  read^ 
wherein  Senoius  conft;fs'd  this  Foibk  of  his  Soul  ;  aftil 
with  fome  Confufiort  broke  out  thus  :  **  What !  Sc-- 
*'  H9tuSj  the  Wife  and  Pious,  the  Modeft  and  the 
**  Humbk)  fay  all  fhis  !  Stiiotus,  the  Venerable  Mail 
**  of  the  Epifcopal  Order,  and  the  Glory  of  oui' 
**  Church,  talk  at  this  rate  ?  O  for.  an  etcrnal  Suc- 
*'  ceilion  of  fuch  Bifliops  in  every  See!  But  what 
**  LGiTon  fhali  I  learn  by  it  ?.  ril  retire  to  my  Clofe? 
**  and  fearch  irtward  ;  for  how  many  Vices  (o  evei' 
**  hung  about  me,  yet  I  never  thought  myfelf  a  proud 
**  Man  before^  but  I  begin  to  fufpedl  me  now« 


P  A  s  s  I  0  N  and  R  E  A  s  o  >r, 

A  M  O  N  G  the  maltitude  of  Words  that  are  ut- 
•^  tered  by  the  Paffiens,  you  may  fometimes  chancc 
to  hear  the  Didlates  of  Reafon  :  But  if  you  fuffer 
yourfelf  to  be  ruffledj'  and  return  Wrath  for  Wrath, 
you  fo  effe(5lually  flop  your  Ears  againft  her  fofter 
Voice,  that  you  cannot  believe  there  was  a  Syllable  o 
Reafon  in  all  the  Difcourfe  of  your  Opponcnt ;  and 
thus  by  indulging  a  Spirit  of  Contradi^^ion,  you  for- 
t)id  your  own  Improvemcnt. 


in  Pross  and  VensE.       141 

TranguiUui  is  a  Gentle.man  of  penetrafing  Judg- 
lucnt,  and  a  fedste  Temper ;  yf//r^/)<?  is  the  Purtner  of 
Jijs  Life  i  a  Perfon  of  good  Ujiderftfinding,  but  her 
Imagination  far  excecds ;  there  is  great  Brightnefs  in 
her  Converf^tion,  but  her  Paflions  are  warm,  and  fhe 
fp  far  tbrgets  herfelf,  that  her  Voice  is  fometimes  a 
littlc  elevated,  even  vhile  Compan)-  is  prefent,  When 
^he  Clouds  cathcr,  and  thc  Storm  rifcs,  Tr&nqulUui 
yields  to  the  Circumftances  of  thc  Hour  ;  he  knows 
'tis  in  vain  to  debate  with  a  Tempeft,  or  reprove  a 
Wirlwind,  but  he  calmly  cxpedb  Silence  and  fair 
Wciither  To-morrow. 

Ma  n  V  a  time  has  thc  good  Man  confcfs'd,  that 
bc  hae  gained  fomc  ufeful  Hints  of  Knowledge  undcr 
thofe  Ledlures  j  for  J  have  worn  out  (faid  hej  many  a 
Campaigne,  I  have  learnt  to  read  Truth  by  the  J-^lafli 
of  Guppowder,  and  to  hearlcen  to  good  Senfe,  even 
whcn  the  Cannons  roar.  Hcr  Admonitions  are  af- 
fiftant  to  Tr\y  Virtue,  tho'  fomctimes  they  are  pronoun- 
ced  louder  tlian  was  necdful. 

H  A  P  P  Y  Man,  who  is  grown  fo  famihar  with 
Wifdom,  as  to  diflinguifli  hcr  Voice  in  the  midft  of 
Thunders,  and  toknowand  venerate  that  divine  Sun- 
beam  among  whole  Sheets  and  Volumes  of  LightningJ 
Happy  Man,  whofc  Soul  ncver  kindles  at  thofe 
Flaftics,  nor  doth  he  find  his  Toiigue  inclincd  to 
cccho  to  thc  Noife  ! 


I4X        Mijcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

AJlrape  indeed  would  do  well  to  corre£l  lier  Tem- 
per  ;  but  one  would  almoft  be  content  to  live  a  Month 
among  thofe  Storms,  if  one  might  but  gain  by  that 
Means  the  placid  and  lovely  Virtues  of  TrwiquV.hi^, 

L 

T    E  T  AJlrape  forbear  to  blaze 

As  Lightning  does,  with  dreadful  Rays, 
Nor  fpoil  the  Beauties  of  her  Face, 

To  arm  her  Tongue  with  Thunder  ; 
That  Reafon  hardly  looks  Divine, 
Where  fo  much  Fire  and  Sound  combine, 
And  make  the  Way  forWit  to  (hine 

By  riving  Senfe  afunder, 

II, 

Yet  if  I  found  her  Words  grow  warm, 
Pd  learn  fome  LefFon  by  the  Storm, 
Or  guard  myfelf  at  leaft  from  Harm 

By  yielding  like  TranquiUus. 
Tempefts  will  tear  the  ftifFeft  Oak, 
Cedars  with  all  their  Pride  are  brokc 
Beneath  thc  Fury  of  that  Stroke 

That  never  hurts  the  Willows. 


^^ 


XXXIX. 


/»  Prose  and  Verse.       143 


XXXIX. 

'  One  T^evil  cafting  out  another. 

T  ATRISSJ  is  often  indifpofed.  Her  Friends 
attend  her  with  moft  obliging  Vifits,  and  fome- 
times  give  her  Relief  in  a  gloomy  Hour.  Lafl  Fri~ 
day  fhe  was  feized  with  her  ufual  Difcompofures  j  two 
Ladies  of  her  greateft  Intimacy  fpent  the  Afternoon  in 
her  Chamber  ;  they  talk'd  of  publick  Bufmefs,  and 
the  Commotions  of  the  World  ;  fhe  was  all  Silence 
and  unmov'd.  They  brought  in  Virtue  and  Religion, 
and  try'd  to  raife  the  Converfation  to  Heaven  ;  her 
Soul  was  very  heavy  ftill,  and  her  Ears  were  liftlefs. 
They  dcfcended  to  common  Trifles,  furvey'd  the 
green  Fields  through  the  Window,  and  bleft  the  fine 
Weather  and  the  warm  Sun-ftiine ;  LatriJJa  was  aU 
cloudy  within,  and  reccived  the  Talk  very  coldly, 

W  H  E  N  thcy  found  all  thefe  Attempts  were  In 
vain,  they  ran  to  the  charming  Topick  of  Drefs  and 
Fafliion,  gay  Colours  and  new  Habits ;  they  traverfed 
the  Park,  and  rehearfed  the  Birth-Day  ;  but  even 
this  would  awaken  no  pleafing  Aires,  not  introduce  one 
5mile,  nor  fcarce  provok^  an  Anfv/er, 


ht 


144        MtfielianeQUsThoughts, 

At  lall  onc  of  the  Vifitants  happen'd  to  mentlon  z 
Name  or  two,  for  which  Lat:iffa  had  a  known  Aver- 
fion,  and  began  to  expofe  their  Condu£l  and  their 
Charader.  Latrijfa  foon  felt  \\vt  wicked  Plcafurc  , 
the  lufcious  Poifon  wroiight  powerfully  within,  her 
Voice  eccho*d  to  evcry  Accufation,  and  confirmM  all 
the  Infamv.  A  Difcourfe  fo  agreeable,  fcatter'd  thc 
inward  Gioom,  and  awaken'd  her  Gall  and  her 
Tongue  at  once.  After  a  few  Sentences  paft,  fhc 
afiumed  the  Chair,  and  ingrofh'd  the  whole  -Conver' 
iation  hcrfelf.  She  raiTd  on  triumphantly  for  an  Hour 
together,  without  Intermiliion,  and  without  Weari- 
neii,  tho'  when  her  Friends  firft  came  in  to  fee  hcr 
fhe  could  hardly  fpeak  for  fair.ting;. 

TtH  u  s  have  I  feen  an  old  Lap-Dog  lle  fullen  or 
hzy  before  the  Fire,  tho'  pretty  Mifs  liath-try^d  a 
hur.drcd  Ways  to  av/aken  tiie  Crcature  to  Aclrvity 
and  Play  :  But  a  Stranger  happening  to  enter  the 
Room,  the  little  Cur  hath  callcd  up  all  his  natural 
Envy  and  Rage,  nor  hath  he  ccafed  barking  till  inQ 
Stranger  difappearcd  j  when  the  fullen  Anima!  would 
not  play,  he  let  us  hear  that  he  could  bark. 

BuT  1  reprove  myfelf.  This  Vice  rs  toobigto 
be  chaftiz'd  by  Ridicule,  for  'tis  a  mcJft  hateful  Breach 
of  the  Rules  of  the  Gofpel.  What  a  difmal  Spedlacle 
is  it  to  fee  this  Engine  of  Scandal  {tt  on  work  fo  fuc- 
ce;6fully   among  Chriftians,  to  drive  out  the  deaf  and 

dumb 


in  pRoSE  audVEKSt.       145" 

dumb  Splrit  !  to  fee  Satan  employ'd  to  caft  out  Satan, 
and  one  evil  Spirit  difpoflefsM  by  another  ! 

O  T  H  E  fhameful  Guft  and  Relifh  that  fome  Peo« 
ple  find  in  Reproach  and  Slander  !  The  great  Apoftle 
fays,  Sptak  Evil  of  no  Man,  and  he  excludes  Raikn 
and  Revikrsfrom  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  j  yet  Latrifja 
pcrforms  the  Duties  of  the  Church  and  the  Clofet, 
rails  daily  at  fome  of  her  Neighbours,  and  thinks  her- 
felf  a  Chriftian  of  the  firfl:  Rank  ftill ;  nor  will  (he  fee 
nor  believe  the  Iniquity  of  her  Temper,  or  the  Guilt 
of  her  Converfation. 


XL. 

Excellencies  and  Defeds  com^enfated. 

T^  A  M  E  doth  not  always  belong  to  the  Adive  anxl 
the  Sprightly,  nor  immortal  Memory  to  the  Sons 
of  Wit.  Gravonius  was  a  Perfon  of  Prudence  and  Vir- 
tue,  but  rather  of  a  flow  Conception,  and  a  very  modc- 
rate  Share  ofNatural  Vivacity  ;  a  Man  of  little  Dif- 
courfe,  but  much  Thought  ;  he  would  fometimei 
bring  forth  very  valuable  Sentences,  and  furnifh  the 
Company  with  wife  Obfervations  that  he  had  colleded 
by  many  Years  Reading,  and  long  Acquaintance 
with  Men  and  Books.  He  travelled  on  daily  in  a 
H  jregular 


146       Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

regular  Round  of  Life  and  Duty  to  a  good  old  Age,  he 
pafs'd  ofF the  Stage  with  Honour  amongft  his  Fiiend^, 
and  was  remembred  Twenty  Years  after  his  Death. 

LyciddS  was  a  Gentleman  of  great  Parts,  fprightly 
Wit,  far  fuperior  to  Graionius  in  the  Pov/ers  of  the 
Mind,  and  at  leaft  equal  to  him  in  ^^irtue  ;  he  flione 
bright  in  every  Companv,  and  put  a  Luftre  upon  a21 
his  Religion  ;  he  was  the  Wonder  and  Love  of  his 
Friends  while  he  Hved.  He  was  fummon'd  away 
from  the  World  in  the  Bloom  of  Life,  deep  Lamenta- 
tions  were  made  at  his  GravCj  but  in  a  few  Years 
tlme  he  was  forgotten. 

H  o  w  came  this  to  pafs,  thnt  what  blazed  fo  bright 
fhould  vanifh  fo  foon,  and  be  loft  at  once  ?  ThcRca- 
ibn  is  not  far  to  feek.  Gravonius  kept  his  Hours 
and  his  Rounds  as  conilant  as  the  Sun,  and  his  Track 
of  Life  was  drawn  to  a  great  Length,  and  was  wcll 
known  to  the  World  :  He  faid  over  his  Apophthegms 
and  Leflbns  of  Pixidence,  till  hisAcquaintance  had  learnt 
them  by  Heart.  LydduS  was  aclive  and  ready  in  ail  the 
Varieties  of  Life,  but  ne\'er  tied  himfelf  down  to 
iRules,  and  Forms,  and  Sentences,  nor  could  he  teach 
another  to  aci  as  he  did  :  He  always  entertained  hls 
Friends  wlth  a  rich  Profufion  of  new  jSentimcnts. 
!Neither  hisWIt  nor  hls  Wlfdom  had  any  Common- 
places :  His  Manner  and  his  Way  was  hke  an  Eaglc 
in  the  Air,  that  leaves  no  Track  behind.  His  Conver- 
■j[atio<n  and  his  Life  had  a  thoufaad  Beauties  in  thcm, 

but 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V*  e  r  s  e.        147 

fcut  they  were  nelther  to  be  imitated,  or  fcarce  rehearfei 
■by  anotlicr. 

T  F  I  vvere  to  live  always,  furely  I  would  wifh  to  hc 

-Zyci^as,  tbat  I  might  have  my  Heart  evcr  at  my  Righf 
Hdnd^  \\\  tlie  Phrafc  oiSoli!''r>K ;  that  I  might  know on  thc 
fuddcn  how  to  fpeak  iiertinently,  and  what  Courfe  to 
take  in  evcry  ncwOccurrenccof  a  World  that'sin  per- 
petualChanges  :    I  would  have  an  UndcrHanding  evec 
■ready  to  fuggeft  the  Thing  that's  proper  in  evcryTimc 
and  Place.     It  rr.ufl  be  allow'd,  that  Lycidas  was  niucti 
the  more  ufeful  JMan  on  Earth,  ti)o'  his  Name  was  foon 
forgotten.      But  Gravonius  hath   this   to  compenfate 
his  Slownefs,  that  in  fome  Senfe  he  lives  the  lono-er 
for  it  :  His  regular  ConJucl  was  Iearn'd  and  copicd  by 
Jiis  Family  ;  his  Sentences  are  often  rehcarfed  amoniy 
'his  Friends  ;  he  fpcaks  v/hile  he  is  under  Ground,  and 
■gives  Advice  to  the  Living  Tv/enty  Years  after  he  is 
dead. 

T  n  E  R  E  is  nothlng  on  Eartli  exccllent  on  a'1 
Sides  ;  theremuft  bc  fomething  wanling  inthe  beft  of 
Creature?,  to  fiiew  how  far  they  are  from  Perfe^lion  ; 
GoD  has  v/ifely  ordained  it,  that  Excellcncles  andDc- 
fc£ls  {hould  be  mingled  amongft  Men  ;  Advantageand 
Difadvantage  are  throv/n  into  the  Balancc,  the  one  \t 
fet  over  againft  the  other,  that  no  Man  might  be  fu- 
fremely  exalted,  aud  uong  utterly  cQntemptible. 


K  *  XLi 


148       Mtfcellaneous  Tlmighu, 


XLI. 

E  N  V  Y   T>ifcover'd, 

'Tj'NVY  is  a  malignant  Vice ;  of  fo  hateful  an 
Afpeft,  and  fo  black  a  Chara<5ler,  that  every 
Man  abhors  it,  when  appearing  in  its  own  Colours ; 
and  whofoever  is  accufed,  renounces  the  Charge  with 
Indignation. 

W  H  E  N  Jthon  was  a  Boyj  and  read  theDefcription 
of  this  foul  Fury  in  the  Books  of  the  Greek  and  Ro?nan 
Poets,  he  imagined  it  was  fome  Beldam  that  infeft- 
ed  Heathen  Countries,  but  he  could  not  believe  that 
fhe  fhould  dwell  among  ChriJlianSj  and  have  a  Tem- 
ple  in  their  v^ry  BofomSa 

C  o  u  L  D  one  ever  fuppofe  that  Envy  fliould  mix 
itfelf  with  the  Blood  and  Spirits  of  a  good  Man,  or 
find  any  room  in  the  fame  Heart  where  there  is  a  Sa- 
vour  of  true  Religon  ?  Religion  confifts  in  an  Inter- 
courfe  of  Divine  and  Human  Love  j 

But  Envy  fmiles  at  Sorrows  not  her  oivn^ 

And  laughs  to  hear  a  Nation  groan. 

But   Envy  feeds  on   Infamy  and  Blood, 

And  grieves  nit  nll  thafi  Gnat  and  Good, 

But 


^«  Prose  ^;/^V£RSE."       14^ 

But  En\7  pines,  becaufe  hei-  Neighbours  thrhe^ 
Aiid  dies  to  fce  a  Brother  lize. 

Y  E  T  this  very  maTignant  Vice,  tbis  Fury  of  He\ 
makes  her  Way  fometimes  into  the  very  Soul  that  is 
lcrn  g/  Gcd,  and  that  hopes  to  be  an  Inhabitant  of 
Heaven  ;  but  it  generally  takes  care  to  conceal  its 
Name,  and  to  difguife  its  odious  Appearance,  that  it 
may  not  be  known  in  the  Heart  where  it  dwells.  It 
too  often  breaks  out  indeed  before  the  Eyes  of  ihe 
World,  to  the  Shame  and  Scandal  of  Religion,  and 
appears  in  its  own  moft  hateful  Form,  Rejoicing  in 
Mifchief;  but  it  much  more  frequently  fits  brooding 
v/ithin,  fretting  at  the  Peace  and  JVefare  of  others^  and- 
fpreads  a  melancholly  Gloom  and  painfuj  Honor 
round  all  the  Chambers  of  the  Sou!,  if  the  Suii  but 
fhinc  upon  a  Neighbour's  Houfe„ 

T  H  E  R  E  is  many  a  Chriftlan  indulges  this  fe- 
tret  Mquity^  and  pradifes  this  Vice  without  the  Re- 
proaches  of  Confcience,  becaufe  he  can't  believe  his 
Condudl  deferves  this  Name,  And  whether  can  I 
fend  luch  a  one  to  learn  the  Nature  of  this  Sin  bettcr 
than  to  his  Bibk  ? 

T  H  E  HoJy  Pfalmifl  was  once  overtaken  with  a  Fit 
of  Envy,  and  after  he  had  becn  divinely  convinc'd  and 
afhamed  of  it,  the-  Way  wherein  he  confefTes  and  de- 
fcribes  it  is  this  ;  That  he  inlarged  his  Ideas  of  the 
Proiperity  of  the  Wicked,  he  fpread  abroad  all  their 
^  3  Honours. 


150        Mifidkneous  Thoughts, 

HonGurS  afid  their  Riches  before  the  Eyes  of  his  Ima-^ 
gination,  and  magnify'd  every  Circumftance  of  theif 
Health,  their  Strength,  and  all  their  Comforts  of  Life; 
but  he  c(nceals  or  lelTens  all  theirTroubles,  as  tho' 
shey  had  nothhig  to  complain  of ;  whrle  at  tJie  fame 
time  his  Mouth  was  fi!led  with  Complaints  of  his 
own  Sorrows,  he  painted  his  own  Grievances  upon  his 
Fancy  in  the  darkeft  Colours,  and  the  moft  difmal 
Shapes,  and  by  the  Comparifon  of  their  Condition 
*nd  his  ov/n,  his  Soul  grew  much  more  uneafv-. 

**  As  for  my  v/Icked  Neighbours,  /^'^  ^^> 
•*  they  thrive  in  the  World,  they  increafe  in 
"  Riches,  they  are  not  in  Troublc  like  other  Mcn, 
"  jior  are  they  plagued  as  I  am  ;  their  Eyes  ftand 
"  out  %virh  Fatnefd ;  they  have  mcre  than  Heart 
-•  can  wiih  ;  they  opprefs  and  profper,  they  are  en- 
">  conipafTed  with  Pride  and  Honours,  they  are.g^y 
"  and  wanton  in  their  Garments  of  OpprefEon  and 
"  Violence ;  in  Life  their  Strength  is  firm,  and 
'^  they  die  eafy,  for  they  have  no  painful  Agonies  in 
"  their  Death  :  But  as  for  me,  the  Waters  of  a  fuU 
"  Cup  are  wrung  out  to  me  ;  all  the  Day  long  have 
"  I  been  plagued,  and  chaftened  every  Moming, 
^  Pfal  Ixxiii. 

T  H  E  good  Man,  when  he  felt  this  evil  Tem- 
per  working  in  him,  indulged  it  too  much  at  firft  ; 
ktt  upon  a  juft  Review.  he  chid  himfelf,  and  fubmitted 


m  Prose  and  VerSe.'       Xft 

tb  call  it  by  Its  propcr  Name,    /  was  envious  {H  tf:e 
FcsHJJ},  -ivhcn  I  faiu  the  Profpeiity  ofthe  TVidcd. 

O  T  H  A  T  it  had  becn  found  only  among  the  Jciv^ 
and  Hiaihcm^  and  ne\'er  broke  into  ChrifeHdom  !  But 
this  is  a  fruitlcfs  Wifii 

Thonillo  has  an  Affluencc  of  all  the  Blefllngs  of 
Life,  except  pcrfecl  Hcalth  and  publick  Honour.  Ple 
i5  fometimes  confined  to  his  Chamber  by  fmall  Indii^ 
pofitions,  while  his  ncxt  Neiglibour  Thlron  is  half-' 
gone  in  a  dangcrous  Confumption,  and  Thomllo  knows 
it  too  ;  but  Thiron  walks  about  the  Fields,  and  ridcs 
daily  in  thc  Country,  if  poflible  to  preferve  his  Life  ; 
in  the  mean  time  he  receives  his  Friends  with  a  bc-- 
ooming  dcgrce  of  Ciiearfuhiefs  and  Plcafurc,  and  is 
much  honoured  and  cfiecmcd  by  all  hls  Actjuainiancc, 
nor  yct  bcyond  his  Merit, 

G  o,  vifit  Thonillo,  and  he  entertains  you  ■witli  no- 
thing  but  long  tirefome  Complaints  of  his  own  Pain^ 
and  Ailments,  and  with  a  fenfible  Anguifli  at  Heai t 
tells  you,  that  he  hears  Thiron  laugh  aloud  v/ith  his 
Companions  ;  that  Thiron  rides  about  at  his  Eafc, 
while  himfelf  is  a  Prifoner  ;  and  while  he  inlarges  up" 
on  all  the  Topicks  that  make  his  own  Life  any  way 
uncomfortable,  hc  takes  as  much  Pains  to  cxpatiate  up- 
on  all  thc  better  Circumftanccs  of  his  Neighbour;  he 
fprcads  tjiem  abroad  in  their  moft  ample  Forms,  and 
with  an  inward  Refentment  paints  out  Thiron's  Hap- 
H   4  pinefs 


i^t       Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

pinefs  in  glaring  Colours ;  he  magnifies  it  to  a  vaft 
Excefs  in  his  own  Fancy,  and  before  his  P^riends,  that 
he  may  feem  to  have  fome  Reafon  to  fupport  his  un- 
cafy  Comparifon,  and  his  inward  Difquietude  of 
Soul. 

S  o  M  E  of  thofe  that  vifit  him  happen  to  fpeak 
well  of  Thtron ;  and  while  they  pity  his  dying  Cir- 
cumftances,  they  mention  hio  Virtues  with  Praife. 
Ah !  fays  Thonilldy  my  Neighbour  walks  at  his  Plea- 
fure,  he  is  courted  and  carefs'd,  and  he  loves  thofe 
tiiat  carefs  him  ;  but  if  they  knew  all  that  I  have 
heard  of  him,  they  would  change  their  Opinion,  and 
'.egvet  his  Honours, 

T  H  u  s  ThoniUo  grows  peevifh  with  all  around  him, 
and  frets  away  a  good  Part  of  his  own  Health,  be- 
caufe  his  Neighbour  is  not  confined  to  his  Chamber 
too.  He  lofes  all  his  good  Charadter,  by  endeavouring 
to  furly  that  of  his  Neighbour  °,  nor  can  you  ever  pleafe 
him,  unlefs  you  find  fault  with  fome  of  his  Acquain- 
tance,  and  fink  their  Names  a  little,  and  diminiib 
t4ieir  Praife, 

Y  E  T  Tlmilh  thinks  himfelf  a  very  good  Chri- 
ftian,  and  thanks  G  o  d  he  has  no  Emy  belonging  to 
him.  Thonilb  read  the  Seventy-third  Pfalm  this  Morn- 
ing,  and  could  not  fee  any  thing  of  his  own  Temper 
or  Features  there.  Who  will  help  Thonillo  to  a  Pair 
of  Spedtacles,  and  affift  his  Eye-fight  ?^ 

I    HAD 


in  P  R 0  g E  and  V  E r s  E.       iSB 

I  H  A  D  fcarce  written  this,  when  Sibylla  entered 
the  Room,  and  wlien  (he  had  read  the  Paper,  "  Sure- 
«  ly,  faid  fhe,  you  have  drawn  the  Pidure  of  Tho- 
"  nillo  to  the  Life  ;  for  tho'  I  never  faw  the  Gentle- 
«  man,  yet  I  have  heard  much  of  him  ;  I  know  a 
"  Brother  and  Sifter  of  his,  Tlmerus  and  Thonerina^  and 
*'  am  acquainted  with  many  othcrs  of  his  near  Rela- 
**  tions. 


XLTI. 

The  Rough  M  A  N  foftened, 

UGRIDIJ  was  of  a  fickly  Conftitution,  but  flie 
was  born  of  Qi^iality  ;  and  having  condefcended 
to  marry  a  private  Gentleman,  fhe  affumM  a  right  to 
be  imperlous  while  her  Diftempers  made  her  peevifli. 
She  was  yoked  with  a  Partner  of  a  tall  and  firm  Sta- 
ture,  robuft  and  healthy,  a  Man  of  great  Courage 
and  Roughnefs,  a  very  Sampfon :  Yet  hls  Soul  had  a 
tendcr  Part  in  it,  and  would  weep  and  bleed,  if 
touch'd  in  the  right   Vein. 

He  never  knew  indeed  what  Sicknefs  meant,  and 
therefore,  tho*  he  was  continually  entertained  with 
Complaints  new  and  old,  yet  he  ftiewed  very  little 
i^ympathy  with   his  fuffering  Friends  under  thelr  va- 

H  5  rio us 


ir^'^       Mifcellaiieoiis  Thoitghts, 

x\o\\r.  Pains  of  Nature.      But  he  met  with  many  fliarp- 
Reproaches  for  want  of  it,  and  had  daily  fevere  Lec- 
tures  read  to  him  at  home  on  that  Occafion. 

O  N  E  Evening  he  was  attacked  with  more  Fury 
than  ufual,  and  it  awaken'd  him  to  make  this  fhort 
Keply.. 

*'  Prithee,  EgrWia^  do  not  labour  in  valn.. 
'^*  Beef  or  Stock-fifh  rnay  be  beaten  till  it  be  tendcr,  but 
-r-  the  Soul  of  a  Adan  is  neither  Flefh  nor  Fifli ;  'tis 
^*'  not  to  be  bufteted  into  Softnefs,  nor  teiz'd  or  fcold- 
^^  ed  into  Compaflion." 

EgridiatX>ok  the  Hint,  and  changed  her  Artillery  in 
order  to  a  Conqueft, ,  In  a  few  Days  fhe  found  that 
Sfitnpforfs  Heart  was  not  ajl  made  of  Irc^i,  but  thera 
were  fom.e  kinder  Materials  in  his  Compofitlon.  Siie 
dropt  a  few  Tears  on  himj,  and  the  Cldy  grew  foft  jr 
ihe  praciis'd  upon  him  with  the  Arts  of  Kindnefs,  and 
he  m.elted  llke  Wax  into  Compaffion  before  the  gentle 
Fire,.  and  began  to  condole  fmcerely  upon  all  her 
Complaints,. 

Reproach£s,  .Ilke  Needles,  may  make  uneaf/. 
Tmpreftions  upon  a  rough  Temper,  and  awaken  it  to 
Fury  ;  but  every  Surgeon  will  tell  us,  that  a  Callus  or 
hard  Flefti,  is  to  be  cured  by  fupplying  Oils,  and  not 
by  the  Incifion-knife.  Perpetual  Rhetorick  of  the- 
idamorous  kind,  may  at  laft  foice  the  Countenance  of 


zM  P  B,  o  s  E  and  V  E  r  s  e.       15*^ 

a  Sampfon  perhaps  to  imitate  Pity,  for  the  Sake  of  liis 
ovvn  Peace  ;  but  it  can  never  teach  his  Soul  to  pradice 
the  tender  PafTion.  Perfecution  may  fometinies  pro- 
duce  a  Hypocrlte,  but  'tis  foft  Perfuafion  and  Kindnefs 
only,  can  make  a  real  Convert  to  Sympathy,  and  • 
turn  a  Heart  of  Stone  into  fmcere  Tendernefs. 

Man  is  the  fameThing  ftill,  as  he  was  in  the" 
Days  of  SohmoH  j  and  Human  Nature  in  Great  Bri- 
tain  is  to  be  managed  the  fame  way  as  it  was  in  Judea 
above  two  Hundred  Years  ago.  The  Maxims  of 
that  Philofopher  are  cverlaftingTruth,  and  his  Pru- 
dentials  will  ftand  the  Teft  in  all  Ages.  J  foft  Anfiver 
turfietk  aivay  IVrath^  hut  grievous  Wordsjlir  up  Strife.  By 
hig  Forlearing^  even  a  Prince  is  perfuaded,  and  a  foft 
Tongue  hreaketh  the  Bone^  Prov.  xv,  i.  and  xxv.  15. 


XLIII. 

I G  N  0  R  A  N  c  E  of  OtirJelveS, 

TTOW  ftrangely  are  we  fituated  in  this  moil.al 
State  !  Wc  opyen  our  Eyes,  v/e  employ  our  Sca- 
fcs,  and  take  notice  of  a  thoufaad  Things  around  us  j 
bat  wc  fee  and  know  almoft  nothing  of  Ourfelves.  We 
are  confcious  indecd  of  our  Being,  and  thcrefore  we 
are  fure  that  ivi  are  j  but  ivhat  v:e  are^  lies  deep  in 
Paikncls.     ^Ve  fec  and   feel  ihcfc  Linibs,   and  this 

Flefh 


iS6       Mifcellaneoiis  Thoughts, 

Flefh  of  ours  ;  we  are  acquainted  at  leaft  with  the 
Outfide  of  this  Animal  Machine,  and  fometimes  call 
it  Oiirfelves,  tho'  Philofophy  and  Reafon  would  rather 
i^y,  'Tis  Dur  Houfe,  or  Tabernack,  becaufe  we  poffefs 
^t  or   dwell  in  it  ;  'tis  our  Eriglne,  becaufe  we  move 
and   manage   it   at  Pleafure  :  But  what  is  this  ^elf 
which   dwells  in  ihis  Tabernacle,  which  pofTefles  this 
Houfe,  which   moves   and  manages  this  Engine  and 
thefe  Limbs  ?  Here  we  are  much  at  a  Lofs,  and  our 
Thoughts  generally  Fun  into  fome  airy  Forms  of  Be- 
jng,  fome  empty  Refinements  upon   fenfible  Images, 
fome  thin  rarefy'd  Shape  and  fubtile  Confufion.     We 
know  not  this  Selfoi  ours,  which  is  confcious  of  its 
own  Exiilence,  which  feels  fo  near  a  Union  of  this 
Flefh  and  Limbs,  and  which  knows  a  Multitude  of 
Things  within  us  and  without  us.     A  furprifing  Phce-' 
Tmnenon   in   Nature  is   this,  that   the  Soul  of  Man, 
which   ranges  abroad  through  the  Heavens  and  the 
jKarrh,  aad.  the  deep  Waters,  and  unfolds  a  thoufand 
Myfleries  of  Nature,  which  penetrates  the  Syflems  of 
Stars  and  Suns,    Worlds  upon  Worlds,  fhould    be  fo 
unhappy  a  Stranger  at  home,  and  not  be  able  to  tell. 
what  it?  S§lf  is,  or  what  it  is  made  ot. 

A  N  D  as  we  are  Ignorant  what  Ourfelves  are  In  a 
7iahiral  Senfe,  fo  we  are  as  little  acquainted  with  Our- 
felves  in  a  moral  Refpefl.  Self-love  and  Pride,  and 
various  PalTions,  throw  an  everlafling  Difguife  upon 
our  own  Temper  and  Gondua.  Whether  we  have 
■iwv  lovely  (^ialities  in  us  or  no,    yet  we  fondly  lov.e 

O-iiif^Ives^ 


/»  pRosE  ^;/^  Verse.      15- 

Ourfelves,  and  then  we  readily  believe  all  lovely  Qua- 
lities  belong  to  us. 

'T  I  s  hard,  exceeding  hard,  to  convince  a  Lover 
that  any  Blemifhes  are  to  be  found  in  the  dsar  Centre 
of  his  AfFedlions  :  Fut  v:e  are  warm  and  zealous  Lo- 
vers  of  Ourfelves  in  all  the  Ages  of  Life.     Tcutb  is 
wild  and  Hcentious  ;  but  in  thofe  Years  vi'e  perfuade 
Qurfeh'es  that  we  are  only  making  a  juft  Ufe  of  Li- 
berty.     In  that  Scene  of  Folly  we  are  light  and  vain 
and  fet  no  Bounds  to  the  frolick  Humour;  vet  we 
fancy  'tis  merely  an  innocent  Gaiety  of  Heart,  which 
belongs  to  the  Springs  of  Nature  and  the  blooming, 
Hours  of  Life.     In  i^he  Age  of  ManJ?o^^  a  rugged  or 
a  haughty  Temper  is  angry  and   quarrelfome  3    the 
Fretful  and  the  Peevifli  in  eldcr  Tears,  if  not  before- 
are  ever  kindling  into  Pailion  and  Refentment  j  but 
they  all  agree   to  pronounce  their  furious  or  fretful 
Condudl  a  mere  neceiTary  Reproof  of  the  Indignities 
which   are  offered  them  by  the  World,     Self-Iovc  i$ 
fruitful  of  fine  Names  for  its  ov/n  Iniquities..    Others 
are  fordid  and  covetous  to  a  Ciameful  degree,  uncom* 
paflionate  and  'cruel  to  the  Miferable  ;    and  yet  they 
take  this  vile  Pradiee  to  be  only  a  juft  Exercife  cf 
Frugality,  and  a  dutifUl  Care  of  their  own  Houfhold» 
Thus  every  Fia  that  belongs  to  us,  is  conftrued  into  a 
Firtue  ;  and  if  there  are  any  Shadows  or  Appearances 
of  Virtue  upon  us,  thcfe  pocw  Appearances  and  Sha- 
dows  are  magnified  and  realized  into  the  Divine  Q^ia- 
Jities  of  an  Angel,     \Ve  who  pafs  thefe  juft  Cenfures 


158        Mlfcellaneotis  Thoughts, 

on  the  Follies  of  our  Acquaintance,  perhaps  approvc 
the  very  fameThings  in  Ourfelves,  by  tiie  Influence 
of  the  fame  native  Principle  of  Flattery  and  Self- 
Fondnefs.  So  difFerent  is  our  Judgment  of  the  fame 
\Veaknefies  v/hen  we  find  them  in  Ourfelves,  from 
the  Sentence  we  pronouncc  uppn  them  if  we  fee  them 
in  our  Neighbour. . 

T  H  u  s  we  begin  to  learn  and  praclice  early  thls 
Art  of  SeJf-deceiving ;  we  grow  up  in  Difguife  and  Self- 
Flattery,  and  we  live  unknown  to  Ourfelves.  Hap- 
py  for  us,  if  our  Eyes  are  opened  to  behold  the  Impo- 
fture  before  we  go  off"  the  Stage  j  for  fuch  grofs  Mi- 
ftakes  will  then  be  fatal,  or  at  leaft  extremely  dangc- 
rous,  when  'tis  too  late  to  corred;  them. 

Te  A  c  H  me,  O  my  Maker,  thc  Knovvlcdgc  of  ■ 
myfelf,  this  moral  or  divine  Knowledge,  which  is 
necefl^ary  to  correcl  my  Errors,  and  to  reduce  my 
Feet  to  the  facred  Paths  of  Virtue.  Let  me  fce  {o 
much  of  my  Folly,  Vice  and  Vanity,  as  to  be  fond  of 
this  wretched  Self  no  longer.  Let  me  grow  fo  far  out 
of  love  with  Myfelf,  as  to  fly  from  Myfelf  to  the  Arm.s 
and  Mercy  of  my  G  o  d.  There  mould  and  fafliion  me 
after  thine  Image  in  all  the  moral  Qualities  of  my 
Soul,  and  let  me  find  in  myfelf  thofe  divine  Features 
which  will  be  ever  beautiful  in  thy  Eyes !  Grant  mc 
this  Blefling,  O  Father  cf  Spirits ;  for  I  cannot  rc{> 
till  I  fce  and  know  myfelf  made  likcthee.  Whcn  this 
js  donCj  I  can  bear  the  relt  of  my  Ignorance  wiih 

JKunbli 


itt  P  R  o  s  L  and  F  e  r  s  e.       159 

humble  Patience  till  I  put  off  this  Vail  and  Difguife  or 
Fleih  ;  I  can  wait  to  learn  ivhat  Sort  cf  Bebig  my  SoUl 
;V,  till  I  arrive  at  thc  World  of  Souls. 


XLIV. 

Abfeiice  from  G  o  d,  ijuho  is  cnr  AIL 

"V/j  Y  G  o  D,  rrry  Maker,  I  have  calied  thee  my  all- 
fatisfying  Portion,  and  my  cternal  Good  j  when 
I,  contemplate  thee,  I  ftand.amazed  at  thy  Grandeur  ; 
thy  Wifdom,  thy  Power,  thy  Fulnefs  of  BleiTmg, 
wrap  my  Soul  up  in  Artonifhment  and  devout  Silencc. 
In  that  bappy  Moment  my  Soul  cries  out,  What  ara 
Crcatures  when  compared  with  Thee,  but  mere  Sha- 
dows  of  Being,  and  faint  Refledlions  of  thy  Light  and 
Beauty  !  And  yet  fftupid  as  I  am)  I  foon  loofe  my 
Sight  of  GoD,  and  iland  gazing  upon  thy  Creatures 
all  the  Day,  as  if  Beauty  and  Light  were  theirj<  in  the 
Original. . 

W  H  A  T  are  they  all,  O  my  G  o  d,  but  empfy 
Cifterns  that  can  give  no  Relief  to  a  thirfty  SouL,  un- 
lefs  thou  fupply  them  with  Rivulets  from  on  high  ? 
And  yet  we  crowd  about  thefe  Cifterns,  and  are  at- 
tachcd  to  them,  as  tho'  they  were  the  unfailing  Springs 
and  Fountains  of  our  Blefiednefs.  Every  Breath  vve 
diaw   is  a  new   and  unmcritcd  Gift  ficm  Hea\'en  ; 

GoD 


i^a        Mifcellaneous  Tboughts^ 

Go  D  is  our  Life,  aud  the  Length  of  our  Days ;  and  yet 
we  are  contented  to  fpend  that  Life  far  from  Heaven 
and  from  G  o  d,  and  to  dwell  afar  ofF  from  him,  a- 
midft  the  Regions  of  Mortality  and  Death  ;  we  are 
are  ever  grovelling  in  thisLand  of  Graves,  as  tho'  im- 
mortal  BleiTings  were  to  be  drawn  from  the  Clods- 
of  it. 

O  u  R  real  and  eternal  Intereft  depends  more  on 
thy  fingle  Favour,  than  on  the  united  Friendfliip  of 
the  whole  Creation  ;  and  yet,  fcoHfh  Wanderers  that 
we  are  !  we  abfent  ourfelves  from  our  G  o  d,  and 
rove  far  and  wide  to  feek  Interefts  and  Friendfliips  a- 
mong  Creatures  whofe  Charadler  is  Weaknefs,  Vani- 
ty,  and  difappointing  Vexation.  How  fond  are  we  of 
a  Word  or  a  Look  from  a  Worm  in  a  high  Station  ? 
How  do  we  carefs  them  and  court  their  Love,  at  the 
Expence  of  Virtue  and  Tmth,  and  the  Favour  of 
Go  D  our  Maker  ?  And  yet  they  are  nothing  without 
G  0  D,  but  he-  is  our  All  without  their  Leave. 

S  H  0  u  L  D  my  Father  and  my  Mother,  anA- 
every  mortal  Friend  forfake  me,  and  every  good- 
Angel  take  his  Fh'ght,  fliould  thefe  Heavens  and  this 
Earth,  with  all  their  innumerable  Inhabitants  difappear 
at  oncc,  and  vanifli  into  their  firft  Nothing,  thy  Pre- 
fence  with  me  is  all-fuflicient,  thy  Hand  would  fup- 
port  my  Being,  and  thy  Love  would  furnifli  out  an 
Eternity  of  Life  and  coe\'al  Happinefs.  Why  then  do 
I  tie  myfclf  fo  h^  to  my  mortal  Friends,  as  tho'  my 

5epara' 


tn 


P R 0 s E  and  Verse.       i^i 


Separation  from  them  were  certaln  Mifcry  ?  Why  do 
I  lcan  upon  Creatures  with  my  whole  Weight,  as  tho' 
nothing  elfe  could  fupport  me  ? 

O  H  my  G  o  D  !  I  am  convinced  that  I  have  more 
AfFairs,  and  of  far  higher  Importance,  to  tranfad  with 
thee,  than  with  all  thy  Creatures,  and  yet  I  am  ever 
chattering  with  thy  Creatures,  and  fay  little  to  my 
G  o  D  ;  or  at  beft  give  him  a  Morning  or  an  Evening 
Salutation,  and  perhaps  too  with  Indolence  and  For- 
mality.  JV}oom  have  I  in  Heaven  or  on  Earth  but  thee^ 
that  can  fupply  all  my  Wants,  and  fill  up  all  the  Va- 
cancies  of  my  Heart  ?  And  yet  how  are  my  Thoughts 
and  Hours  bufily  employed  in  queft  of  Satisfaclion  a- 
mong  the  ftiining  Snarcs,  or  at  beft  among  the  flatter- 
ing  Impertinences  of  the  World  j  tho'  every  new  Ex- 
periment  fhews  me  they  are  all  unfatisfying.  If  I 
happen  to  find  any  thing  here  below  made  a  ChanneL 
to  convey  fome  Blefling  to  me  from  thy  Hand,  ho\^r 
prone  am  I  to  make  an  Idol  of  it,  and  place  it  in  tlie 
room  of  my  God.  l 

Ho  w  much,  alas!  do  I  truft  to  my  Food  to  nou- 
rifh,  and  Phyfick  to  heal  me  !  but  'tis  thou  alone  can'ft 
blefs  me  with  Eafe,  Nourifhment  and  Health,  while  I 
dwell  in  this  Cottage  of  Flefli  and  Blood.  Let  Me- 
«licines  and  Phyficians  pronounce  Defpair  and  Death 
upon  me,  a  Word  of  thine  can  fliut  the  Mouth  of  the 
Grave,  can  renew  the  Vigour  and  Bloom  of  Youth, 
and  repair  the  Decays  of  Nature.     If  thou  with-hold 

thy 


f6z        MifcellaneGUs  Thoughts, 

thy  vital  Infiuence,  my  Flefli  languifhes  and  expires,. 
even  among  tJie  luxurious  Pro^-ifions  of  the  Tablc,  and 
the  ie.Y;>-i  of  the  Learned  j  and  'tis  thou  only  can'ft 
provide  me  a  blifsful  Habitation,  when  this  Cottagc  is 
fallen  to  tlie  Grcund.  Father^  into  thy  Hand  I  ']o7n-' 
mendmy  Splrit,  when  it  is  diflodged  from  tliis  mortal 
Tabernacle  ;  and  why  fliould  I  not  keep  my  Spi- 
rit  ever  near  tJjee,  flnce  every  Monient  I  am  li- 
able  to  be  turned  out  of  this  Dweiling,  and  fent  a 
naked  Stranger  into  the.  unknov/n  Wurld  of  Spirits  ? 

'T  I  s  but  a  few  Days  and  Nights  more  that  I  can 
have  to  do  with  Sun,  Mcon  and  Stars;  a  little  tioie 
will  finifli  all  mj  Commerce  with  this  vifible  World  ; 
but  I  have  AfFairs  of  infinite  and  everlafting  Moment 
to  tranfacl  with  tlie  Great  G  od.  'Tis  before  thy 
Tribunal  I  ir,\x^.  ftand  as  the  final  Judge  of  all  my 
Condufl:,  from  whofe  decifive  Sentence  there  is  no- 
Appeal  j  and  yet  how  fond  am  I,  and  wretchcdly  fo- 
licitous,  to  approvc  myfelfrathertoCreatures,  whofe- 
Opinion  and  Sentence  is  but  empty  Air.  'Tis  by  thy 
Judgment  that  I  muft  ftand  or  fall  for  ever;  tiie 
Words  of  thy  Lips  will  be  my  eternal  Blifs,  or  my 
everlafling  Woe  ^  why  then  fhould  T,  a  little  Infedt, . 
or  Atom  of  Being,  be  concerned  about  the  Smiles  or 
Frowns  of  my  Fellow-Infeds,  my  equal  Atoms  ?  Can 
all  tlieir  Applaufes,  or  their  Reproaches,  weigh  a 
Gra'n  in  the  Divine  Balancc,  that  facred  and  tre- 
mendous  Balance  of  Juflice,  in  which  all  my  Adions 
and  my  Soul  itfelf  mufl   be  weighcd  ?    Let  all  thc 

Creatures 


zn  Prose  a7/d Verse.       I(5j 

Creatures  above  and  below  frown  and  fcowl  upon  mc, 
if  my  Creator  fmile,  I  am  happy  ;  nor  can  all  their. 
Frownings  diminifli  my  compleat  Joy. 

F  o  R  c  I  V  E,   gracious   G  o  n,   forgive    the    paft 
FoUies  and  Wanderij.gs  of  a  nnful  Worm,   from  thce 
the  higlieit  and  tiie  bell  of  Beings.     I   am  e\  en  amar 
zcd  at  my  own  Stupidity,  that  I  could   live  fo  much. 
abfent  from.  thce,  when  m}'  eternal  All  depends  uporu 
thee. 

A  N  D  how  n.ach  more  inexcuiiible  is  my  Forget- 
fuhiefs  of  mY~G  o  d,  fince  he  has  fent  his  own  Son, 
his  faireft  Image,    into  Flefn  and  Blood,  to  put  me  in 
mind  of  jny  Maker^-i.   .  to  teach  me  what  my  God  is  i' 
Hc  tkit  hcnfien  ?ne,fuys  hc,  hai  fccn  thcFalhcr ;  1  andthe- 
FiUher  are  One.    We  happen  to  be  born  indeed  too  late 
for  the  Sight  of  his  Face,  but  we  have  the  Tranfcript 
of  his  Heart,  the  true  Copy  of  his  Life,  and  the  very 
Features  of  hisSoul,  convey'd  down  to  us  in  his  ever- 
living  Gofpels.     There  we  mjiy  read  Jcfiis-)  there  we 
may  learn  the  Father.     O  may  the  Httle  Remnant  of 
jny  Days  be  fpent  in  the  Prefence  of  my  G  o  d  ;  and 
when   I  am  conftrained  to  converfe  with  Creatures, 
let  me  ever  remember  that  I  have  infinitely  more  to 
do  with  my  Creator ;  and  thus  fhorten  my  Talk  and 
Traffick  with  them,  that  I  may  have  Leifurc  to  con- 
verfe  the  longcr  wlth  thee.     Let  me  fee  Thee  in  every 
thing  ;  let  me  rcad  thy  Name  evcry  where  ;  Sounds,. 
Shapes,    Colours,    Motions,    and  all  vifible  Things, . 

let. 


1^4        Mtfcellcineous  Tht)ughts\ 

let  them  all  teach  me  an  invifiblc  G  o  d.  Let  Crca- 
tures  be  nothing  to  me,  but  as  the  Books  which  thou- 
haft  lent  me  to  infl:ru£l  me  in  the  Leflbns  of  thy 
Power,  Wifdom  and  Love  ;  above  all,  let  me  derive 
this  Science  by  Converfe  with  the  bkfled  'JefiiSy  and 
may  I  be  fo  wife  a  Proficient  in  this  Divine  School,  as 
to  learn  fome  new  Leflx)n  daily.  Train  me  up  a- 
mong  thy  vifible  Wopks  and  thy  Word,  O  my  hea- 
venly  Father,  by  the  condefcending  Methods  of  thy 
Grace  and  Providence,  till  I  am  loofen'd  and  weancd 
from  all  Things  below  G  o  d  ;  and  then  glve  me  a 
g-lorious  Difmiflion  into  that  intelle^ual  and.  blilsful 
World,  -where  in  a  more  immediate  Manner  I  fhair 
fee  G  o  D,  and  where  G  o  d  himfdf  is  the  fenfible: 
and  acknovvledged  Life  of  Sculs.. 


XLV. 

FORMALITY  and  SUFERSTITION. 


^^T^  I S  a.melancholy  Thing  to  confider  how  great  a 
Part  of  Mankind,  even  in  Chriftian  Countries> 
deceive  themfelves  in  the  facred  and  important  Affairs 
of  G  o  D  and  Religion.  They  cheat  their  Confcien- 
ces  with  the  empty  Forms  of  Worlhip,  and  hope  to  fe- 
cure  themfelves  from  eternalEvils,  and  to  obtain  every 

BleiTing 


in  Prose  and  Y-ek^e.       16$ 

Blefliiig  of  the  upper  and  lower  World,  by  mere  bo- 
dily  5ervice,  and  the  outward  Shapes  of  Devotion. 

T  H  E  Papijl  fprinkles  himfelf  with  Holy  Warer, 
and  believes  that  the  Devil  dares  not  afTault  him  ; 
he  has  fign'd  his  Forehead  with  a  Crofs,  and  got  fome 
Relicks  of  a  Saint  about  him,  and  now  he  imagines  him- 
felf  fo  well  guarded,  that  he  defies  the  Powcrs  of  Hell. 
He  fays  his  Prayers  in  Latin,  m  full  Tale  and  Num- 
ber,  forhe  counts  hisString  of  Beads  to  fecure  his  Me- 
mory  and  his  Honefty,  and  expeds  G  o  d  fliould  hear 
and  blefs  him  for  it;  tho'  he  himfelfdoes  not  know 
what  he  prayed  fbr,  in  fo  many  hard  Words  and  Syl- 
lables. 

Ritillo  profefTes  the  Proteftant  Faith,  keeps  his 
Church,  cons  over  his  Prayer-book,  bows  at  the 
Name  of  Jefus,  and  makes  all  the  Refponces  in 
proper  Time ;  he  obferves  every  Feftival,  honours 
the  Saints,  receives  the  Sacrament  at  Chrijlmas  and 
Eajier,  and  grows  up  merely  in  the  Power  of  thefe 
Forms  to  full  AfTurance  of  Salvation  j  yet  Rjtilh 
lcnows  not  what  you  mean  by  Convi6llon  of  Sin,  he 
fcarce  ever  thought  himfelf  to  want  Repentance,  or 
faw  and  felt  his  real  need  of  Grace  and  Forgivenefs. 

N  o  R  is  this  dangerous  Piece  of  Self-iiattery  con- 
fln'd  only  to  thofe  Parties  of  Chriftians  that  dcal 
much  in  Ceremony.  Amorphus  divides  himfelf  from 
the  Nation^d  Church,  that  he  may  enjoy  and  pradice 

purer 


^66        Irlijceilaneous  Thoughts, 

purer  Worfhip,  without  the  Inventions  of  Men  ;  hc 
carries  his  Scruples  to  a  confiderable  Length  in  this 
Way  ;  he  dares  not  be  prefent  at  a  common  Funeral, 
left  he  (hould  appear  to  join  in  fome  exceptionable 
Forms ;  he  attends  the  beft  of  Preaclicrs  in  their  fepa- 
rate  Meetings,  and  that  with  an  Aire  of  Zeal  and  Devo- 
tion  ;  he  lays  his  Bible  every  Night  under  his  Pillow, 
•and  reads  thrce  Chapters  every  Morning  ;  he  endurcs 
pcrhaps  many  aScott  for  hisprecifePractices  and  Pun- 
ctilio's,  yet  he  negle£b  the  great  Duties  of  Repentance 
■and  Charity,  and  puts  the  vain  Fancy  of  Precifenefs 
-and  Separation  in  the  rooni  of  Faith  andLove,  and  in- 
ward  Holinefs. 

P  o  0  R  abufed  Mankind,  that  fceds  on  tliC  Wind 
to  gain  Immortality,  and  refts  on  a  Shadow  for  Sup- 
port  in  Matters  of  everlafting  'V/eight  anJ  Confo 
cuence ! 

B  E  L  I  E  V  E  me,  AiiVjVphu^^  your  mere  Noncon- 
formity  is  no  better  a  Dcfence  againft  the  Devil  than 
the  Reliques  of  a  Saint  or  the  Koly-water  Pot.  Youi 
Dlfguft  againft  eftabliftied  Forms  of  Prayer,  will  pro- 
cure  no  more  Blellings  from  Heaven,  than  the  Latin 
Dcvotions  of  a  Prieft  or  a  Friar.  Superjlition  does  not 
^lways  lie  in  the  Obfervance  of  more  Ceremonies  thaii 
GoD  has  made,  or  in  a  mere  AfFediation  to  ferve  hiiH 
"with  Rites  and  Forms  of  the  Contrivance  of  Men.  Jn- 
themerm  is  as  fuperftitious  in  his  Hatred  of  Chri/imas  and 
CssdFridayfZs  Hmerim  b  m  the  tQO  fgnd  Obfervation  of 

them, 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r 5 1;.       i^y 

-them,  becaufe  each  of  them  place  their  Merit  Inltheir 
Zeal  about  a  Thing  which  G  o  d  has  left  indifFerent 
in  his  Word,  and  for  which  he  owes  them  no  fpeciii] 
Jleward. 

T  H  E  fevere  Separatift  with  all  hls  Singularitlcs, 
and  the  High-Church  Man  with  all  his  Rituals  and 
Rubrick,  his  Saints  and  their  Fefiival?,  the  fcrupulous, 
tlieprccifc,  and  the  ceremonious  Worrnippcr,  will  be 
all  fhut  out  together  from  thc  ICingdom  of  Heaven,  if 
they  have  no  better  Certificate  to  fhow  at  the  Gatcs 
of  it,  than  fuch  empty  Characfters  a^  thefe.  Thefc 
Shapes  of  Profeflion,  wlthout  real  Piety,  have  no 
Place  in  the  WorJd  of  Spirits,  and  are  of  no  Eileem  iii 
Paradife,  where  God  and  Angeh  dwell.  Nothing  caa 
ever  make  way  for  our  Admiffion  there,  but  a  holy 
Acquaintance  with  GoD,  Repentance  ofcvery  knov/n 
Sin,  and  Truft  in  'J^fui  the  Saviour  ;  nothing  but  the 
Life  and  Spirit  and  Power  of  Godlinefs,  but  Patiencje 
Humility  and  Self-Denial,  Mortification  and  Watch- 
fulnefs,  and  Faith  that  v/orketh  by  Love. 

M  E  R  E  Form^  are  fo  eafy  aWay  of  getting  to  Kea- 
Vv°n,  that  G  o  D  would  ncvcr  allow  them  to  be  a  fuf- 
Ticient  Tltlc,  lcft  his  Palace  Ihould  be  crouded  with 
tcn  Thoufand  Hypocrites. 


XLVI, 


i68        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 


XLVI. 

CowARDiSE  and  Self-Love. 

T  H  A  V  E  often  thought  'tis  a  right  noble  and  gallant 
Principle  vvhich  enables  a  Perfon  to  pafs  a  juft  and 
folid  Judgment  upon  all  Things  that  occur,  without 
€ver  being  warpt  afide  by  the  Influence  of  Fafhion  and 
Cuftom  :  'Tis  a  noble  Soul  that  can  pra6life  fteady 
Virtue  in  Oppofition  to  the  Courfe  and  Humour  of 
the  Multitude  j 

'TiV  hrave  to  jneet  the  World^  Jlandfaft  among 
IVkoJe  Crowds,  and  not  be  carrfd  in  tke  Throng. 

'T  w  A  s  a  fcmale  Mufe  wrote  thefe  Lines,  but 
there  is  a  manly  Spirit  and  Vigour  in  them.  Not  that 
we  ftiould  be  fond  of  running  counter  to  the  Cuftom 
of  the  Age  or  Nation  wherein  we  dwell,  out  of  a 
liumourous  Singularity  to  ftiew  our  Valour ;  but  when 
thofe  Cuftoms  have  a  plain  Appearance  of  Vice  and 
FoUy  in  them,  we  fliould  dare  to  be  Virtuous  and 
Wife  in  fpight  of  the  World. 

*T  I  s  a  Felicity  in  Human  Life  to  have  a  good  de- 
grec  of  Courage  inwrought  into  our  very  Frame,  and 

mingled 


in  Prose  afidV  tKSz>        16^ 

mingleJ  with  our  Blood  and  Spirits.  Virtue  itfelf, 
even  wliere  it  has  a  great  Afccndant  in  the  Soul,  has 
not  Power  to  exert  itfelf,  and  fhine  out  to  the  World, 
if  Animal  Nature  want  this  brave  and  hardy  Tempe- 
■  rament.  How  much  do  I  feel  myfelf  ftand  in  need 
of  this  Fortitude  of  Conftitution  ?  What  fhall  I  do  to 
acquire  it  ?  Methinics  I  fhould  be  ready  to  part  with  a 
few  Ornaments  cf  the  Mind,  and  make  an  Exchange 
of  fcme  of  the  niore  fhewy  and  glfttering  Sciences  for 
this  bodily  Virtue,  (if  I  may  fo  cxprefs  it)  this  Com- 
plcxional  Bravery. 

I  c  o  N  F  E  s  s,  thcre  are  fome  other  and  worfc 
Principles  tlian  a  merc  dck6\.  of  natural  Courage  which 
tcmpt  a  ?vlan  fomctimcs  to  comply  with  the  Fafliion, 
and  to  fail  in  roundiy  vvith  the  Errors  and  Vices  of  the 
Times.  Some  Perftins  have  fo  little  Love  to  Truth 
and  Virtuc,  and  fi:ch  an  excefnve  Fondnefs  for  thc 
Thiug  caird  Self,  that  they  will  never  expofc 
iicmfelves  to  the  leafl  Inconveniency,  in  order  to  fup- 
port  the  Hcnour  of  Wifdom  and  Religion  among 
Men.  Such  an  one  was  Crijpus  in  the  ^th  Satire  of 
Juztmil,  who  ever  flattcred  the  Court,  and  focthed  thc 
fucccfTive  Eniperors  in  all  their  Vices,  and  by  thii 
Means  drew  out  his  Age  to  Fourfcore  Ycars. 

Hk  igitur  mnquam  direxit  hrachia  contra 
Tcrrrentemy  nec  Ci-jis  erat,  qui  libera  pojk 
Verba  animi  proferre,  ^  Vitam  impendere  Vero. 

I  Sic 


1 70  Mifcellaneous  Tboughts.^ 

S/£  multas  hyemcs^  atque  onogefmia  vidit 
Sol/iitia,  his  armis,  iild  quoque  iutus  in  aula., 

Paraphrased  tJ:us. 

He  never  was  the  Man  that  dar'd  to  fwim 
Againft  the  rolling  Tide,  or  crofs  the  Stream  : 
He  was  no  Patriot,  nor  indulg'd  his  Breath 
Bravely  to  fpeak  his  Scnfe,  and  venture  Death. 
Thus  he  fpun  out  hisfupple  Soul,  and  drew 
A  Length  of  Life  amidft  a  vicious  Crew. 
Full  Fourfcore  Years  he  faw  the  Sun  arife, 
Guarded  by  Flattery,  and  entrench'd  in  Lyes ; 
For  'twas  his  fettled  Judgment  from  his  Youth, 
One  Grain  of  Eafe  was  vvorth  a  World  of  Truth. 

B  u  T  this  wretched  Self-Love  is  fo  vile  a  Principle 
that'twill  not  only  conftrain  a  Man  toavoid  hisDuty, 
Init  'twill  oftentimes  pufli  him  upon  mofl  inhumane 
Pradices,  and  make  him  facrifice  his  Friends,  his 
Parents,  or  his  Country  to  his  own  Eafe  ^nd  Safety. 

O  curfed  Idol  S  E  l  f  ! 
TheWretchthat  worfhips  thee  would  dare  totread  ^ 
With  impious  Feet  on  his  own  Father's  Head,  C, 

To  'fcape  a  rifingWave  whcn  Seas  the  Landinvade.  J 
To  gain  the  Safety  of  fome  higher  Ground,    [round^ 
He'd  trampledown  theDikes  that  fence  hisCountry^ 
Amidft  a  generalFlood^and  leave  thc  Nation  drown'd. '' . 

W  E  L  L, 


171 


pROSE  and  Verse.       171 


We  L  L,  tlio'  my  natural  Courage  run  very  low, 
yet  I  hate  thefe  Characlers  which  have  been  now  de- 
fcribeJ,   and  abominate  the  Principles   whence  they 
procced.     I  confefs,   a  feeble  Man  and  difndent  had 
need  to  pray  daily,  Lord^  lead  us  not  into  Temptation : 
But  if  ever  I  ftiould  be  called  to  bear  witnefs  to  the 
Truth,  and  to  do   puWick   Honour  to  Religion  and 
Virtue,  at  the  Expence  of  all  my  mortal  Interefts,  I 
trufl  the  God  of  Nature  and  Grace  to  furnifli  me  with 
evcry  neccffary  Talent,  and  to  uphold   me  with  Di- 
vine  Fortitude.     And   O    may  I  never  dare  to  do  a 
bafe  or  unworthy  A6lion,  to  the  Injury  of  my  Friend 
or  my  Country,  or  to  the  unjuft  Detriment  of  the 
meaneft   Figure   among   Manlcind,  in  order  to  fave 
Life  itfelf,  or  to  acquire  tlie  richeft  Advantages  that 
can  belonff  to  it ! 


XLVIT. 

SlCKNESS  a/id  R  E  C  O  V  E  R  Y. 

T  T  was  the  Cuftom  of  David^  as  appears  by  feveral 
of  his  Pfalms,  and  it  was  the  Pradice  of  Hezekiah 
and  Jonaby  Kings  and  Prophets,  to  reheaf  fe  the  Ago- 
nies  of  their  Diftrefs,  whcn  they  offcr'd  to  Heaven 
their  Songs  of  Delivcrance.  They  recolledled  their 
Hours  anJ  Days  of  Bittcrnefs,  and  thc  Workings  of 

I  2  their 


-17  2,        Mifcellaneous  Tbotights, 

■  their  Soul  amiclft  thclr  (harp  and  grievous  Sorrcws,  to 
make  theRemembrance  of  their  Salvation  the  fv/eeter, 
and  fo  kindle  the  Zeal  of  their  Gratitude  to  a  hi^her 
FJame.  Is  it  a  Matter  of  Blame  to  imitate  fuch  Ex- 
amples  ?  Doth  not  the  Reafon  hoki  good  in  our  Age, 
and  to  all  Generations  ?  Why  {hould  a  Chriflian  be 
any  more  afraid  to  tell  the  World  of  his  Affli£tions  or 
Difturbanccs  than  a  "Jevj  ?  Or  why  fhould  he  be  a- 
lliamed  to  let  them  know,  that  amidft  thofe  Sinkings 
of  Life  and  Nature,  ChnjTtanity  and  the  Gojpel  were 
his  Support  ?  Amidft  all  the  Violence  of  my  Diftem- 
per,  and  the  tirefome  Months  of  it,  I  th?.nk  God  I 
never  loft  Sight  of  Reafon  or  Religion,  tho'  fometimes 
I  had  much  ado  to  preferve  the  Machine  of  Animal 
Nature  in  fuch  Order  as  regularly  to  exercife  either 
the  Man  or  the  Chriftian,  efpccially  when  I  fhut  my 
Eyes  to  feek  after  Sleep  and  Repofe,  and  had  net 
their  Aid  to  fence  againft  the  diforderly  Ferments  of 
natural  Spirits.  But  thefe  Confli6ls  are  defcribed  in 
the  following  Lines.  BlelTed  be  God  for  preferving 
and  heahng  Mercy  ! 

THOUGHTS  tf;;^  MEDITATIGNS 

In  a  long  Sickness,  1712  and  1 7 1 3 . 

The  Murry  of  the  Spiiits,  in   a   Fever 
and  Nervoui  Diforders. 

'\Ji  Y  Frame  of  Nature  is  a  ruffled  Sea, 

-^  -*■  And  my  Difeafe  the  Tempeft.     Nature  feels 

A  ftrange  CommgtiQji  to  her  iiim<?ft  Centre  ; 

Thc 


it  pROSE  and  Verse.       173 

f  he  Throne  of  Reafon  (hakes.  "  neftiU,  my  7kougks; 

''  feace  and  beftUl"     In  vain  my  Pveafon  gives 

The  peaceful  Word,  my  Spirit  flrives  in  vain 

To  calm  the  Tumult  and  command  my  Thoughts, 

This  Fleih,  this  clrcling  Blood,  thefc  brutal  Powers 

Made  to  obey,  turn  Rebels  to  the  Mind, 

Nor  hear  its  Lav^'s.     The  Engine  rules  the  Man. 

Unhappy  Change  !  VVhen  Nature's  meaner  Springs 

Fir'd  to  impetuous  Ferments  break  all  Order  ; 

When  little  refllefs  Atoms  rife  and  reign 

Tyrants  in  Sovereign  Uproar,  and  impofe 

Ideas  on  the  Mind  ;  confus'd  Ideas 

Of  Non-exiftents  and  ImpOiTible?, 

WiiO  can  ccrcribe  thcm  ?  Fragment?  ofold  Drcnal-, 

Borrow'd  from  Midnight,  torn  frcm  Fuiry  Fivlds 

And  Fairy  Skies,  ar.d  Regions  of  the  Dead, 

Abrupt,  ill-forted.     O  'tis  all  Confufion  ! 

If  I  but  clofc  my  Eyes,  flrange  Images 

In  thoufand  Forms  and  thoufand  Coloursrife, 

Stars,  Rainbows,  Moons,  green  Dragons,  Be;ars,  an'l 

An  endlefs  Medley,  rufh  upon  the  Stage,        [Ghofti, 

And  dance  snd  riot  wild  in  Reafon's  Court 

Abovc  controul.     Pm  in  a  ragingStorm, 

Where  Seas  and  Skies  are  blended,  while  my  Sour 

Like  fome  light  worthlefs  Chip  of  floatinT  Cork 

Istofl:  from  Wave  to  Wave  :  Now  overwheIm'd 

With  breaking  Floods  I  drown,  and  feem  to  lofe 

All  Being  :  Now  high-mounted  on  the  Ridgc 

Of  a  tall  foaming  Surge,  Pm  all  at  once 

Caught  up  into  the  Storm,  and  ride  the  Wind, 

I  3  The 


174        Mtfcelldneous  Thoughts^ 

The  whiftlingWind  ;  unmanageable  Steed, 
And  feeble  Rider  !  Hurried  many  a  League 
Over  the  rifing  Hills  of  roaring  Brine, 
Thro'  airy  Wilds  unknown,  with  dreadful  SpeeJ 
And  inftnite  Surprize  ;  tiil  fome  few  Minutes 
Have  fpent  the  Blaft,  and  then  perhaps  I  drop 
Near  to  the  peaceful  Coaft  j  fome  friendly  BilloW 
Lodges  me  on  the  Beach,  and  I  find  Reft : 
Short  Reft  I  find  ^  for  the  next  rolling  Wave 
Snatches  me  back  again  ;   then  ebbing  far 
Sets  me  adrift,  and  I'm  borne  oft^to  Sea 
Helplefs,  amidft  the  Blufter  of  the  Wincls, 
Beyond  the  Ken  of  ShOKi 

A  H,  vvhen  wi!l  thefe  tumultuous  Scenes  be  gone  r 
When  fhall  this  wcary  Spirit,  toft  with  Tempefts, 
fl3rrafs'd  and  broken,  reach  the  Port  of  Reft, 
And  hold  it  ftrm  ?  When  fhall  this  way-ward  Flefh 
With  all  th'  irregular  Springs  of  vital  Movement 
Ungovernable,  return  to  facred  Order, 
And  pay  their  Duties  to  thc  ruling  Mind  ? 


Peace  0fCofssc11.KCE.af2d  Prayer  for  H  e  a  l  r  h. 

"y  E  T,  gracious  God,  amidft  thefe  Storms  of  Nature, 

Thine  Eyes  behold  a  fvveet  and  facred  Calm 
Reio-n  thro'  the  Realms  of  Confcience  :  AII  within 
Lies  peaceful,  all  compos'd.     'Tis  wond'rous  Gracc 
Keeps  ofF  thy  Terxors  from  this  humble  Bofom, 

Tho' 


/;/  Prose  and  VerSE.       175* 

Tho'  ilain'cl  with  Sins  and  FolHes,  yet  ferene 

In  penitential  Peace  and  chearful  Hope, 

Sprinkled  and  guarded  with  atoning  Bloodi 

Thy  vital  Smiles  amidft  this  Defolation 

Like  heavenly  Sun-beams  hid  behind  the  Clouds, 

Break  out  in  happy  Mon^ents,  with  bright  Radianc* 

Cleaving  the  Gloom  ;  the  fair  celeftial  Light 

Softens  and  gilds  thn  Horrors  of  the  Storm-, 

And  riclieft  Cordials  to  the  Heart  conveys. 

O  Glorious  Solace  of  immenfe  Diftref-, 
A  Confcience  and  a  God  !  A  Friend  at  home, 
And  better  Friend  on  high  !  This  is  my  Rock 
Of  firm  Support,  my  Shieid  of  fure  Defence 
Againft  infernal  Arrows.     Rife,  my  Soul, 
Put  on  thy  Courage  :  Here*s  the  living  Spring 
Of  Joys  divinely  fweet  and  ever  new, 
A-pcaceful  Cotifcience  and  afniling  Hcavcn. 

M  Y  God,  permit  a  crecping  Worm  to  fay,- 
Thy  Spirit  knows  I  love  thee.     Worthlefs  Wretch, 
To  dare  to  love  a  God  !  But  Grace  requires, 
And  Grace  accepts.  Thou  feeft  my  labouring  Soul : 
Weak  as  my  Zeal  is,  yet  my  Zeal  is  true  ; 
It  bears  the  trying  Furnace.     Love  Divine 
Conftrains  me  ;  I  am  thine.     Incarnate  Love 
Has  feiz'd  and  holds  mc  in  Ahnighty  Arms  : 
Here's  ray  Sah'ation,  my  eternal  Hope, 
Amidft  the  Wreck  of  Woilds  and  dying  Nature, 
I  am  tke  L:rd's^  and  he  fcr  ever  tnine, 

I  4  O 


%^6        MifceUaneciis  7'hcifghts:^ 


O  T  M  C  U  all-powei-ful  Word,  at  whofe  firft  Cail 
Nature  arofe  j  this  Earth,  thefe  (hinlng  Heavens, 
Thefe  Stars  in  all  their  Ranks  came  forth,  and  fiiid, 
fVe  afe  thy  SerV^fitS  :  Did'i1  thou  not  create 
My  Frame,  my  Breath,  iriy  Eeing,  and  bei^ow 
A  Mind  inimortal  on  thy  feeble.  Creature 
Who  faints  before  thy  Face  ?  Did  not  thy  Pity 
Drefs  thee  in  Fiefh  to  die,  that  1  might  live, 
And  with  thy  Blood  redscm  this  captive  Soul 
From  Guiit  and  Death  ?  O  thricc  adored  Nartie, 
My  ICifig,  My  Savlour,  My  E^tmiiud^  fay, 
Have  not  thy  Eyelids  markM  my  painful  Toil^ 
The  wild  Confufions  ofmy  fhatteiM  Powers, 
And  breken  fluttering  Thoughts  ?  HaH:  thou  not  feen 
Eaeh  reftkft  Atom  that  with  vexirg  Influence 
Works  thro'  the  Mafs  of  Man  ?  Each  noxious  Juice, 
Each  Ferment  that  infe6is  the  viial  Humours, 
That  heaves  the  Veins  with  huge  Difquietude 
And  fpreads  the  Tumult  wide  ?  Do  they  not  lie 
Beneath  thy  Vicv^^,  and  all  within  thy  Reach  ? 
Yes,  all  at  thy  Command,  and  muft  obey 
Thy  fovereignTouch :  ThyTouch  is  Health  and  Life, 
<•  And  Harmony  to  Nature's  jarring  Strings. 

(Groans. 
W  H  E  N  flmll  my  Midnight-Sighs   and   Morning- 
Rife  thro'  the  Heights  of  Heaven,  and  r-ach  thy  Ear 
Propitious  ?   See,  my  Spirit's  feeble  Powers 
Exhai'd  and  breathing  upward  to  thy  Throne, 
Like  early  Incenfe  climbing  thro'  the  Sky 

From 


in  Prose  ^»<!/Verse.       177 

From  the  warm  Altar.  When  fhall  Grace  and  Peace 

De.fcend  with  Bleflings,  hke  an  Evenlng  Shower 

On  the  parch'd  Defart,  and  renew  my  Bloom  ? 

Or  muft  thy  Creature  breathe  his-Soul  away 

In  fruitlefs  Groans  and  die  ? 

Come,  blefl  Phyfician,  come  attend  the  Moan 

Of  a  popr  fufFering  Wretch,  a  plaintive  Worm, 

Crulh'd  in  the  Duft  and  helplefs.      O  defcend, 

Array'd  in  Power  and  Love,  and  bid  me  rife. 

Incarnate  Goodnels,  fend  thy  Influence  down 

To  thefe  low  Regions  of  Mortality 

Whcre  thou  haft  dwelt,  and  clad  in  flefhly  Weeds 

Learnt  fympathetic  Sorrows  ;  fend  and  heal 

My  !ong  and  fore  Diflrefs,     Ten  thoufand  Praifes 

Attend  thee  :  David's  Harp  is  ready  flriang 

For  the  Mejfiah-s  *  Name  :  A  winged  Flight 

Of  Songs  harmonious,  and  newHonours  wait 

The  Steps  of  mcving  Mercy. 

Encowag^d  to  hopefor  H  e  a  l  t  k  ///  M  a  V, 

Decemher   iji2, 

/^OnfiiVl  to  Cit  \n  Silcnce,  here  I  wafle 

The  golden  Hours  of  Youth.     If  once  I  flir„    . 
AnJ  rcach  at  adtive  Life,  what  fudden  Tremors 
Shake  my  wliole  Frame,  and  all  tiie  poor  A'Iachine 

*  j^t  this  Time  wy  Imhatlan  ^David'/  Pfalms  in  Chrijlian 
l.angnage  zi-as  not  half  donc  :  As  fajl  as  I  recorer^d  Strc?i^th 
•r'"'  ''"  '  '■■',^-lllnfii  I  applf  d  rnvfclf  by  degrees  ie  finijh  it.    ■ 

1  ^  Lics 


178        Mifcellaneous  Tbonghfs^ 

Lies  fluttering  ?  What  ftrange  wild  convulfive  Force 
0'erpowers  at  once  the  Members  and  the  Will  ? 
Here  am  I  bound  in  Chains,  a  ufelefs  Load 
Of  breathing  Clay,  ai  Burden  to  the  Seat 
That  bears  thefe  Limbs,  a  Borderer  on  the  Grave. 
Poor  State  of  worthlefs  Being  !  while  the  Lamp 
Of  glimmering  Life  burns  languifliing  and  dinij 
The  Flame  juft  hovering  o'er  the  dying  SnufF 
With  doubtful  Alternations,  half  disjoin'dj 
And  ready  to  expire  with  every  Blaft. 

Yet  my  fond  Friends  would  fpeak  a  Word  of  Hope; 
Lo\'e  woulJ  forbid  Defpair  :  "  Look  out,  they  cry, 
*■'  Beyond  thefe  gloomy  Damps,  while  Winter  hangS 
*'  Heavy  on  Naturc,  and  congeals  her  Powers  : 
'■'•  Look  chearfljl  forward  to  the  vital  Influence 
*'  Of  the  returning  Spring  j"  I  rouze  my  Thoughtf' 
At  Frlendftiip's  facred  Voice,  I  fend  my  Soul. 
To  diftant  Expedlation,  and  fupport 
Thc  painful  Inlerv.ai.with  poor  Amufements.. 

M  Y  Watch,  the  folitary  kind  Companion-. 
Of  my  Imprifonment,  my  faithful  Watch 
Hangs  by  ;  and  with  a  ftiort  repeated  Sound 
Bcats  like  the  Pulfe  of  Time,  and  numbers  oflT 
My  Woes,  a  long  Succeftion;  while  the  Finger 
Slow-moving,  points  out  tlie  flow-moving  Minutcs ; 
The  flower  Hand,  the  Hours.     O  thou  dear  Engine, 
Thou  little  Brafs  Accomptant  of  my  Life, 
Wpuld  but  thc  mighty  Wjieels  of  Heaven  and  Nature 

OiK* 


in  Pr  o s  e  and  V e  r s  e.      179 

Once  imitate  thy  Mo^'ements,  how  my  Hand 
Should  dri\'e  thy  dented  Pinions  round  their  Centres 
With  more  than  Ten-fold  Flight,  and  whirl  away 
T\\^k.  clouded  wintry  Suns,  thefe  tedious  Moons, 
Thefe  Midnlghts ;  every  Star  fhould  fpreed  its  Race, 
And  the  flow  Bears  precipitate  their  Way 
Around  the  frozen  Pole  :  Then  promis'd  fjealth 
That  rides  with  rofy  Cheeks  and  blooming  Graec 
On  a  May  Sun-beam  fliould  attend  me  herg 
Before  To-morrow  fheds  its  Evening-Dew, 

A  H  foolifh  Ravings  of  a  fruitlefs  M^ifl] 
And  Spirit  too  impatient !  Know'fl  thou  not, 
My  Soul,  the  Power  that  made  thee  ?  He  alone 
Who  form'd  the  Spheres,  rolls  them  in  deflin'd  Rounds 
Unchangeable.     Adore  and  trufl  and  fear  him  : 
He  is  the  Lord  of  Life.     Addrefs  his  Thrcnf, 
And  wait  before  his  P^oot,  with  awful  Hope 
Submiffive ;   at  his  Touch  Diftemper  fliies  : 
His  Eyelids  fend  Beams  of  immortal  Youth 
Thro'Heaven's  bright  Regions.  His  all-powerful  Wc^r<t 
Can  create  Health,  and  bid  the  BlefTmg  come 
A-mid  the  wintry  Frofl,  when  Nature  ieems 
Congeard  in  Death  j  or  with  a  fovereign  Frown 
('Tho'  Nature  blooms  all  round)  he  can  forbid 
The  Bleffing  in  the  Spring,  and  chain  thee  down 
To  Pains  and  Ma-ladies  and  grievous  Bondagc 
Thry'  all  the  circling  Seufyiis, 


Th« 


1^0        AHfcellaneous  Thonghts, 

The  Wearifome  Weeh  of  Sicksess.  . 
1712;  or   1713. 

'np  H  U  S  pafs  my  Days  away.     Tlie  chearful  Sun 

Rolls  roiiiid  and  gilds  the  World  with  lightfome 
Alas,  in  vain  to  me  ;  cut  off  alike  (Beams, 

From  the  bleft  Labours,  and  the  Joys  of  Life  ; 
While  my  fad  Minutes  in  their  tirefome  Train 
Serve  but  to  number  out  my  heav)-  Sorrows. 
By  Night  I  count  the  Clock  ;   perhaps  Eleven, 
Or  Twelve,  or  One  ;  then  with  a  wlfhful  Sigh 
Call  on  the  lingring  Hours,  Ccme  Two  \  come  Five :  ■ 
in.^cniJcHlthe Day-Ughtcome ?  Make hafte, ye  Mornings, 
Ye  Evening-ftiadows  hafte  ;  wear  out  thefe  Days, 
Thefe  tedious  Roundsof  Sicknefs,  andconclude 

The  weary  Week  for  ever ■ 

Then  the  fweet  Day  of  facred  Reft  returns, 

Svveet  Day  of  Refl,  devote  to  God  and  Heaven, 

And  heavenly  Bufmefs,  Purpofes  divine, 

Angclick  Work  j  but  not  to  me  returns 

Reft  with  the  Day  :  Ten  Thoufand  hurrjing  Thoughts 

Eear  m.e  away  tumultuous  far  from  Heaven 

And  heavenly  Work.     In  vain  I  heave  and  toil, 

And  v.-reftje  with  my  inward  Foes  in  vain, 

O're-power'jand  vanqui(h'd  ftlll :  They  dragmedown. 

From  Thlngs  cceleftial,  and  ccnfine  my  Senfe 

Yo  prefent  Maladies.     L^nhappy  State, 

\Vlicre  tl^.e  poor  Spirlt  is  fubdu'd  t'  endure 

Ufiholy 


r^  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r.  s  e.       rS  i^. 

Unholy  Idlenefs,  a  painful  Abfence 

From  God,  and  Heaven,  and  Angels  bleffed  Worlc, 

And  bound  to  bear  tlie  Agonies  and  Woes 

That  fickl)'.  Flefli  and  fliatter'd  Nerves  iropofe,  . 

How  lonz,  O  Lord,  how  long  ? 


J  HYMN  ^Praise  for  Recovery. 

TT  A  P  P  Y  for  Man,  tl-iat  the  fiow  circling  Moons 

And  long  revolving  Seafons  meafure  out 
The  tirefome  Pains  of  Nature  !  Prefent  Woes-' 
Have  their  fweet  Periods.     Eafe  and  chearful  Health 
With  flow  Approach  (fo  Providence  ordains) 
Revifit  their  forfaken  Manfion  here,- 
An<l  Daysof  ufciul  Life  difFufe  their  Dawn  •• 
0're  the  dark  Cottage  of  my  weary  Soul. 
My  vital  Powers  refume  their  Vigour  now, 
My  Spiritfeels  her.  Freedom,  fhakes  her  Wing3,. 
Exuhs  and  fp^iates  o'er  a  thoufand  Scenes, 
Surveys  the  World,  and  with  full  Stretch  of  Thought* 
Grafps  her  Ideas  ;  while  impatient.Zeal 
Awajces  my  Tongue  to  Praife.  What  mortal  Voice 
Or  mortaltjand  can  render  to  m.y.God 
The  Tributedue  ?  What  Altars  fhall  I  raife  ? 
What  grand  Infcription  to  proclaim  his  Mercy 
Li  Jiving  Lincs  ?  Whcre  (hall  I  find  a  Vidlim   . 
Me^t.to  be  ofier'd  to  his  fovereign  Love, 
And  folemnize  the  Worfliip  and  thc  Joy... 

3£ AR  Q  H 


1 8  s        Mifcellaneous  Thotights,  • 

S  E  A  R  c  H  well  my  Soul,  thro'  all  the  darkRecefles 
Of  Nature  and  Self-Love,  the  Plies,  the  Folds, 
And  hollow  winding  Caverns  of  the  Heart, 
Where  Flattery  hides  our  Sins  ;  fearch  out  the  Foes 
Of  thy  Almighty  Friend  ;  what  lawlefs  Paflions, 
What  vain  Defires,  what  vicious  Turns  of  Thought 
Lurk  there  unheeded  :  Bring  them  forth  to  view, 
And  facrificethe  Rebels  to  his  Honour. 
^^'"ell  he  deferves  this  Worfhip  at  thy  Hands, 
^Vho  pardons  thy  paft  FoIIies,  who  reftores 
Thy  mouldring  Fabrick,  and  with-holds  thy  Life 
From  the  near  Borders  of  a  gaping  Grave. 

Al  M I  G  H  T  Y  Power,  I  love  thee,  Blifsful  Namej 
My  Hcaler-God ;  "and  may  myinmoft  Heart 
Love  and  adore  for  ever  !  O  'tis  good 
To  wait  fubmiflive  at  thy  holy  Throne,- 
To  leave  Petitions  at  thy  Feet,  and  bear 
Thy  Frowns  and  Silence  with  a  patient  Soul, 
The  Hand  of  Mercy  is  not  fliort  to  fave, 
Nor  is  tbe  Ear  of  heavenly  Pity  deaf 
To  mortal  Cries.     It  notic'd  all  my  Groans, 
And  Sighs  and  long  Complaints,  with  wife  Delay, 
Tho'  painful  to  thc  Sufferer ;  and  thy  Hand 
In  proper  Moment  brought  dcfir'd  Relief. 

Ri  SE  from  my  Couch,  ye  late  enfeebled  Limbs, 
Prove  your  new  Strength,  and  fhew  th'  effe<5livc  Skill 

Of  the  Divine  Phyfician  j  bear  away 

Thii 


in  Prose  and  Verse.        183 

This  tottering  Body  to  his  facred  Threfhold  : 
There  ladcn  with  his  Honours,  let  me  bow 
Before  his  Feet  ;  let  me  pronounce  his  Grace, 
Pronounce  Salvation  thro'  his  dying  Son, 
And  teach  this  fmful  World  the  Saviour's  Name. 
Then  rife,  my  hymning  Soul,  on  holy  Notes 
Tow'rd  his  high  Throne ;  awake,  mychoiceflSongs^. 
Run  ecchoing  round  theRoof,  and  while  youpay 
The  folemn  Vows  of  ray  diftrefsful  Hoars, 
A  Thoufand  friendly  Lips  fhall  aid  the  Praife. 

J  E  s  u  s,  great  Advocate,  whofe  pitying  Eyc 
Saw  my  long  Anguifh,  and  with  melting  Heart 
And  powerful  Interceffion  fpread'fl  my  Woes 
With  all  my  Groans  before  the  Father-God,, 
Bear  up  my  Praifes  now  ;  thy  holy  Incenfe 
Shall  hallow  all  niy  Sacrifice  of  Joy, 
And  bring  thefe  Accents  grateful  to  his  Ear. 
My  Heart  and  Life,   my  Lips  and  every  Power 
Snatch'd  from  the  Grafp  of  Death,  I  here  devote 
By  thy  blefl  Hands  an  OfFering  to  his  Name, 
Amen,  Halklujab,. 


XLVIIL 


184.        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 


XLVIII. 

The  D  E I  s  T  and  the  C  h  r  i  s  t  i  a  n; 

yjPISTUS  went.  into  a  Church  one  Morning, . 
becaufe  he  knew  not  how  toemploy  the  Hour, 
and  heard  the  Text  read  out  of  Rom.  xii,  r.  I  bcfeech 
you  thereforey  Brethren^  by  the  Mercies  of  God,  that  ycu 
prefent  your  Bodies  a  living  Sacrifice,  holy,  accepiable  to 
God,  which  is  your  reafonahle  Scj-vicc."  *'  Well,  faid 
he  to  himfelf,  "  I  hke  this  Period  ;  I  hope  I  fliall 
"  now  hear  a  Piece  of  Divine  Service  that  has  fonie- 
"  thing  reafonahle  in  it ;  it  is  my  Opinion,  as  wcll  as 
"  Paurs,  that  we  fhould  employ  thefc  living  Bcdies  of 
"  ours  to  the  Service  of  that  God  that  made  us,  and 
"  the  Mercies  of  God  cblige  us  to  it,    . 

T  H  E  Preacher  purfued  his  Subjcd  with  much 
Beauty  and  Juftnefs  of  Thcught  and  Style  ;  he  expa- 
tiated  on  the  various  Engagements  we  lie  under  to  the 
great  God  to  prefcnt  our  whole  Natures  and  all  our 
a£live  Powers  as  a  living  Sacrifice  to  him.  Thus  far 
•  Apifus  was  .  charm'd  with  the  Perfonnance.  .  Bnt 
after  the  mention  of  ,many  of  thofe  Mercies  of  God 
which  oblige  usto.a  holy  Life,  he  came  at  laft  to 
jaamc  that  illuftrious  Inftancc  of  Divine  Mercy,  in 

fcnding 


fcnding  his  own  Son  Cbrijl  Jefus  to  redeem  us  from 
Sin  and  Hell ;  then  he  fhev/cd  that  the  only  Ground 
and  vFoundation  upon  which  God  would  accept  this 
/iviftg  Sacrifice  of  our  Bodies  was  the  dying  Sacrifice  of 
his-  own  Son,  who  bore  cur  Sins  iji  kis  Bidy  on  tbr  Tree. 
Hcpe  A/fius  begun  to  be  rufHcd  a  little,  and  as  the  Ser- 
mon  went  on  with  fome  Life  and  Spirit  on  this  gio- 
rious  Subjcia,  he  was  fo  much  difpleafed  with  the 
Prcacher,  that  he  rofe  up  and  went  out  of  the  Church, 
and  with  an  Air  of-  mingled  Indignation-  and  Gon- 
tempt,  he  told  his  Neighbour  PjV^iJ/z  tlic  whole  Story 
on  the  Monday. 

C  0  ME,  fjt  down  a  little,  fftid  l'\thm.^  ard  Ict  li^ 
examine  the  Merits  of  this  Caufe.  Our  Bibk  obliges 
i:s  to  givQ  to  the  great  God  our  Creator  all  that  r^J- 
fonable  Serviie  which  you  pretend  to  ;  it  teaches  us  to 
prefent  our  Bodies^  and  our  Souls  too,  as  a  Sdcrifce  to 
our  God :  The  Soul  muft  be  there,  or  the  Btdy  can 
ne\'er  be  a  living  ^acrifice.  Thus  far  we  agree.  Now 
if  your  Religion  be  right,  the  Chriflian  is  in  a  very  fafe 
and  fecure  State,  for  he  endeavours  to  perform  all  that 
reafonahle  Duty  and  Service  that  the  Light  of  Nature^ 
requires  of  him  as  well  as  you. 

B  u  T  we  Chriftians  are  taught  further  to  believe, 
that  all  Men  areSinncrs;  and  furely  you  yourfelf  muft- 
acknowledge  you  have  been  guilty  of  many  Violations- 
of  the  Law  of  God  and  Nature,  and  you  have  not 
aUvays  performed   that  reafonable  Servicc   to   God,- 

which . 


1^6        Mifcellaneous  TJjoughts^ 

which  your  ov/n  Confcience  requires.  Ha^e  you  not 
too  often  been  tempted  to  alienate  fomeofthofe  very 
Powers  of  Body  or  Mind  from  the  Service  of  God, 
which  you  had  before  devoted  to  him  as  your  living 
Sacrifiu  ?  Havc  your  Soul,  your  Lips  and  yourHands 
been  always  employ'd  in  thcir  Duty  to  tliis  God  ? 
Have  you  never  indulged  a  criminal  Wifh,  never  fpo- 
ken  an  evil  Word,  or  committed  an  A£lion  which 
your  own  Confcience  condemns  ?  Think  of  this, 
JpifiuSy  and  your  Confcience  muA  teil  you  that  you 
are  a  Sinner  too. 

We  believe  alfo,  that  without  a  Sacrifice  for  Sin, 
there  is  no  Acceptance  with  God,  and  we  have  reafoii 
to  think  that  God  has  told  us  fo.  But  this  God  in 
his  infinite  Mercy  has  provided  fuch  a  Sacrifice,  he 
has  made  the  Body  and  Soul  of  his  own  Son  a  dying 
Sacrifice  of  Atonement  j  this  is  the  only  Ground  of  our' 
Hope,  and  'tis  a  glorious  Ground  indeed  !  Now  if  our 
Religion  be  true,  what  will  become  of  Apifim^  who 
confefTes  he  hath  be^n  a  Sinner,  and  yet  renounces  at 
once  this  oply  Hope  and  this  Atojiement  ? 

Heb.  X.  26,  27,  31.  For  if  wefm  wilfully,  i.  e.  by 
renouncing  the  Chriftian  Sacrifice,  after  we  have  re- 
ceived  the  Kmwledge  oftke  Truth^  there  remaineth  no  more 
Sacrficefor  Sin,  hut  a  certain  fearful  hohngfor  of  Judg- 
7nent  and  fiery  Indignation  which  fimll  devour  the  Adver- 
faries.  Aud  it  is  afearful  Thing  tofall  into  the  Hands  of 
'theLivlngGcd,  ^^^^^ 


in  Prose  and  Verse.       187 


XLIX. 

To     P  0  C  Y  O  N. 

The  Mifchief  of  warm  Difpute;  and  Dechmatiom  on  thg 
Conirovcrted  Points  /Christianity. 

My  Dear  P. 

T  Ga V  E   your  laft  Letter  a  joyful  Entertainment  ; 

■*'  flHnhouglit    it  tal!;'d    fe  pkahn|ly  &»J    fo   1^"© 

with  me,  as  if  it  meant  to  make  amends  for  'm  tedi- 

ous  Delay  :  One  of  the  chief  Subjeds  of  its  Difcourfe 

was  the  extenfive  Defign  of  Divine  Love  to  Men.     I 

ha\'e  been  debating  with  myfelf,  whether  I  fhould  re- 

turn  my  Friend  an  Anfwer  to  his  propofed  Thoughts 

on  a  Point  fo  abftrufe  and  difficult  :  I  have  not  yet  de- 

cided    the    Caufe   for  myfcJf,  for  want  of  fufficient 

Study  and  Thouglitfidnefs,  tho'  you  know  I  have  been 

110  Stranger  to  Diligence  in  Academical  Studies  thefe 

feveral  Years  paft :   It   feems  to  require  largerTime, 

and  a  vaft  and  more  comprehenfive  Survey  of  Things, 

in  ordcr   to   fix  my  Opinions  in  thefe  Controverfies, 

or  pronounce  any  thing  certain  in  Dcctrines  fo  much 

difputed  ;  unlefs  it  pleafe  God  himfelf  by  a  divine  Ray 

to  ftrike  a  powerful  Light  upon  any  particuIarTruth, 

and  convey  it  in  that  Light  to  the  Underftanding  and 

the 


i8S         Mifcellaneoiis  Thoiight^y 

thc  Confcience  of  the  Enquirer.  rm  perfuaded  this  13 
his  frequent  Method  with  humble  and  traiSlable  Spirits, 
who  have  not  Capacity  nor  Advantages  for  a  long 
Traiii  of  Reafonings,  and  Years  of  Sufpenfe  and  En- 
quiry.  In  the  mean  time  I  v/ould  purfue  Knowledge 
with  Honefty  and  Diligence  In  the  ordinary  Methods 
which  are  fuited  to  attain  it. 

W  H  E  N  Tm  in  doubt  about  any  Point,  and  fet  my 
TlK>ughts  at  Work  in  a  fearCh  after  Truth,  I  think  I 
ought  to  retire  more  tiian  hitherto  I  have  done,  froni 
thc  nolfy  and  furious  Contefls  which  thc  feveral  Fac- 
tions  and  Parties  of  Chriftians  are  engaged  in.  I  am 
very  unwilling  to  contend  in  a  Difpute,  or  to  flourifn 
in  a  Declamation  upon  the  Stjbjedt  irto  which  Tm 
enquiring .  Sophiilry  and  Oratory  throw  fo  much 
Paint  upon  the  Queftion  in  Difpute,  cr  raife  fo  much 
Dufl  about  it,  as  to  conceal  the  Truth  from  the  Eye 
of  thcMind,  and,hide  the  Merits  of  the  Caufe  from 
S«afon. 

Tn  Mattersof  the  Chriftian  Faith,  I  would  make 
the  Scripture  my  Guide,  and  enter  into  a  calm  Con- 
fe-rence  vvith  myfslf  in  a  Survey  of  the  Oracles  of  God, 
in  order  to  a  Decifion  of  the  Senfe  and  Meaning  of 
them ;  not  negle<3:ing  the  Aflifiance  of  pious  and  learn- 
ed  Authors,  but  converfing  very  littlc  with  the  Angry 
and  Supercilious.  I  would  with  daily  and  hourly  Im- 
portunity  addrefs  the  Father  of  Lights,  to  fhine  upon 
his  own  Word,  and  to  difcover  his  Intent  therein.     I 

■\vould 


in  pROSE  and  Verse.  ^   189 

•  would  humbly  implore  the  Spirit  of  Wifdom  and  Re- 
velation  to  take  the  Things  of  Chrift,  and  fhew  them 
to  my  Underftanding  in  a  moft  com  incing  Light, 
and  to  lead  me  as  it  were  by  the  Hand  into  all 
ncedfiil  Truths.  My  Reafon  {hould  be  ufed  as  a  ne- 
ccfTary  Inftrument  to  compare  the  feveral  Parts  of  Re- 
velation  together,  to  difcover  their  mutual  ExpHcation, 
as  well  as  to  judge  whether  they  run  counter  to  any 
X)ictates  of  naturalXight.  But  if  an  inquifitive  ]\lind 
overleap  the  Bounds  of  Faith,  and  give  the  Reins  to 
all  our  Reafonings  upon  Divine  Themes  in  fo  wideand 
open  a  Field  as  that  of  Poflibles  and  Probables,  'tis  no 
eafy  Matter  to  guefs  where  they  will  ftop  their  Carcer, 
I  have  made  Experiment  of  this  in  my  own  Medita. 
tions  ;  when  I  have  given  my  Thoughts  a  loofe,  and 
let  them  rove  without  Confinement,  fometiraes  I 
feem  to  have  carried  Reafcn  with  me  even  to  the  Camp 
oi  Smnu: ;  but  then  St.  Johjt  gives  m.y  Soul  a  Twitch, 
and  St.  Paulh^xs  me  back  again  (if  I  miftake  not  his 
Meaning)  almoft  to  the  Tents  of  John  Calvin.  Nor 
even  then  do  I  leavemy  Reafon  behind  me.  So  diiFi- 
cult  a  Thing  is  it  to  determine  by  mere  Reafoning 
^hofe  Points  which  can  be  learnt  by  Scripturc  only. 

B  u  T"you  would  urge  mc  further  perhaps  to  inform 
ycu,  why  I  am  io  cold  and  backward  to  enter  into  a 
Debatc  on  the  Subjetft  ycu  propofe,  and  upon  which 
you  flourifli  with  fuch  force  of  Similes^  and  in  Lan- 
^guage  fo  bright  and  pathetick,  I  am  too  fenfible, 
dear  Focyon^  and  tiiat   by  reading  your  Letter,  that 

fuch 


1^0        Mtjcellaneotts  Thoiights^ 

fuch  Difputations  can  hardly  be  managed  without  m- 
terefting  the  AfFedtions  in  them,  and  Pm  afraid  to  bs 
byafsM,  for  I  feek  the  Truth.  ''Tis  exceeding  hard 
to  difpute  without  gaining  fome  invifible  Prejudice  and 
Good-liking  to  the  Opinion  we  defend.  So  devoted 
are  we  to  ourfclves,  in  this  dark  and  degenerate  State» 
that  Self-love  too  eafily  engages  our  Favour  to  the 
Caufe  we  have  efpoufed,  and  for  no  other  Reafon  than 
becaufe  we  efpoufed  it.  Tho'  we  had  no  Kindncfs 
before  for  an  Opinian  that  we  maintain  for  difputing- 
fake,  yet  if  a  plaufible  and  fmiling  Argument  for  it 
•  occurs  in  our  hafty  Thoughts,  how  prone  are  M^e  to 
hus  the  Creature  of  our  Brain,  and  be  almoft  in 
love  with  the  Opinion,  for  the  fake  of  the  Argument  ? 
I  confefs  there  are  no  fuch  formal  Reafonings  in  our 
Minds  as  thefe  j  yet  we  are  infenfibly  captivated  to 
efteem  any  thing  that  proceeds  from  ourfelves  :  Oirr 
Paffion  firft  thinks  it  Pity  that  fuch  a  happy  Argu- 
ment  of  our  own  Invention  flsould  be  on  tbe  falfe  Side, 
and  by  fecret  Infmuation  perfuades  the  Judgment  to 
votc  it  true.  How  often  have  I  experienced  thefe 
Fallacies  working  within  m.e  in  verbal  Difputations 
before  my  Tutor  !  And  for  this  Reafon,  I  ha\'e  no 
great  Efteem  of  the  Method  of  our  Academical  Dif- 
putes,  where  the  young  Sophifters  are  obliged  to  cp- 
pofe  the  Truth  by  the  beft  Arguments  they  can  find, 
and  the  Tutor  defends  it  and  aftifts  the  Refpondent. 
There  is  a  certain  Wantonnefs  of  Wit  in  Youth,  and 
a  pleafmg  Ambition  of  Vi(3:ory,  which  works  in  a 
young  warm  Spirit,  much  ftronger  than  a  Defire  of 

IVuth, 


in  pROSE  and  Verse.        191 

Truth.  There  is  a  ftrange  Deliglit  in  baffling  the 
"Refpondent,  and  it  grows  bigger  renfibly,  if  we  can 
put  the  Prefident  to  a  Puzzle  or  a  Stand.  The  Ar- 
gument  which  is  fo  fuccefsful,  relifhes  better  on  the 
Lips  of  the  young  Opponent,  and  he  begins  to  think 
that  'tis  fohd  and  unanfwerable  ;  "  Surely  my  Tutor's 
"  Opinion  can  hardly  be  true^  and  tho'  I  thought  I 
*'  was  put  on  the  Defence  of  a  falfe  Do*2:rine,  3'et 
"  fince  I  have  found  fo  good  an  Argument  for  it,  I 
"  can  hard]y  believe  it  falfe."  Then  his  Invcntion 
works  on  to  ftrengthen  his  Sufpicion,  and  at  laft  lic 
.firmly  believes  the  Opinion  he  ought  for.  Often 
have  I  been  in  danger  of  fuch  Delufions  as  thefe,  and 
feel  myfelf  too  ready  to  fubmit  to  them  now.  Even 
a  Clofet,  and  Retirement,  and  our  cooleft  Meditations 
are  liable  to  thefe  fecret  Sophiftries.  Upon  the  firft 
Sight  of  an  Objedion  againft  our  Argumcnts,  our 
Thoughts  are  ftrangely  hurried  away  to  ranfack  thc 
Brain  for  a  Reply,  and  we  torture  our  Invention  to 
make  our  Side  have  the  laft  Word,  before  we  call  in 
cool  Judgment  calmly  to  decide  the  DifFerencc  ;  and 
thus  from  a  iiot  Defence  of  our  own  Rcafonings,  we 
unimaginably  flidc  into  a  cordial  Defence  of  the  Caufe. 

T  H I  s  unaccountable  Prejudice  for  an  Opinion  in 
Difpute,  fticks  fo  clofe  to  Human  Nature,  that  I 
queftion  whcther  Pocyon  himfelf  can  boaft  an  abfolutc 
Freedom.  You  feem,  my  Friend,  to  indulge  and  main- 
tain  fome  hard  Confequences  now,  which  fome  time 
ago  would  have  ftarded  your  Soul,  and  affrighted  and 

fyrbid 


^91         MifcellaneousThoughts, 

-forbid  your  Aflent.  Fartwel,  dear  Man,  and  let 
your  next  Letter  proceed  on  the  Philofophical  Themes 
that  are  before  us,  in  which  you  n:ay  expe£l  a  boldcr 
Freedom  of  Thought,  a  more  agreeable  Rcply  and 
rCorrefpondence  from 

-  Youn^  &c, 
Scuthampton^ 
1696.. 


L. 

"O/  Labour  and  Tatience  in  In- 
ftrurting  M  A  N'  K  I  N  D. 

"To  P  o  c  Y  o  N,  cmplaining   cf  bis  jujl  Anger  and'  me-, 
■  lanchly  Re^entw.ent^  thai  he  met  with  fo  many  Perfcmcf 
narrciv   and  wicharitable  Sculs,  ohfiinate  in  Opimcns, 
.  md  violent  againfi  all  cther  Noticns  and  Pratliois^  but 
luhat  themjehes  had  embraced, 

■'VT'  EsTERDAY,  my  Friend,  I  received  your  long 
Complaint,  and  I  have  aheady  five  Hundred 
"Things  to  fay  to  you  ;  for  there  is  not  a  Perfon  I 
converfe  with  that  can  ftir  up  theThoughts  which  lie 
at  the  bottom  of  my  Soul  like  you.  AU  my  Notions 
are  afloat  when  I  read  your  Letters,  but  a;  prefent  'tis 
■in  a  troubled  Sea  ;  for  you  exprefs  your  own  Melan- 
"choly  with  fo  lively  an  Aire,  that  it  raifes  a  Guft  of 

tlie 


in  pROSE  and  V ZY.SZ.       193 

the  fame  Paflion  in  mc  ;  tho'  Nature  has  not  mingled 
m\jch  of  that  dark  Humour  in  my  Conftitution.  If  I 
cannot  prefent  you  my  Sympathy  in  fuch  vivid  and 
tender  Expreflions  as  I  would,  yet  I  can  read  over 
your  Lines  again  and  again,  and  fay  I  feel  them. 

I  c  o  u  L  D  help  you,  methinks,  to  fpurn  this  Globe 
avvay,  and  joTn  with  you  in  renouncing  Commerce 
with  Men,  while  we  arife  to  fome  higher  Worlds^ 
furnifh'd  with  Inhabitants  of  a  better  Compofition. 
Or,  if  this  be  too  bold  a  Thought,  and  we  cannot 
afcend  above  the  comnion  Rank  of  Human  Nature, 
let  us  retire  from  tliem  into  fome  folitaryShade,  that 
we  may  be  free  from  their  Impertinences,  for  we 
can't  Hve  happily  among  the  Race  whicli  this  Earth 
bieeds,  they  are  of  fo  perverfe  a  Mold.  How  have 
I  fretted  fometimes  to  ftand  by  and  hear  the  Nonfenle 
of  a  brutalWorld  that  pretends  to  Reafon  !  'Tis  Edu- 
cation,  'tis  Pafllon,  'tis  Prejudice,  'tis  Stubbornnefs, 
'tls  what  you  will  but  good  Scnfe,  that  commands  thc 
Judgments  and  flamps  the  Opinions  of  Men.  How 
oftcn  have  I  laboured  by  Reafons  of  the  brightefl:  Evi- 
dence  to  rcftify  a  grofs  and  vulgar  Miflakc  ?  But 
Words  have  been  loft  in  the  Wind  :  Prejudice  and 
Education  had  eleven  Points  of  the  Law,  and  it  was  im- 
■poflible  for  Argument  to  difpoflefs  them.  Thofe  Argu- 
ments  that  i  have  fought  out  from  far,  and  dig'd  deep 
for  them  vnth  thc  Swcat  of  my  Sod,  and  have  fclt  and 
yielded  to  their  refiftlefs  Powcr,  thofe  vcry  Arguments 
(I  fay)  -havc  been  anfwered  with  a   Jeft  or  a  lcud 

K  Laudi, 


194       MifcelUneous  Thoughts, 

Laugh,  and  been  fcorn'd  hy  unletterM  Animals,  as 
the  Leviathan  derides  and  mocks  at  a  Spcar  of  Straw. 
Then,  my  Friend,  I  have  alnioft  regretted  the  La- 
bours  of  my  Brain,  and  wondcrM  to  what  Purpofe  I 
had  devoted  myfelf  to  Studies  that  improv'd  my  Rea- 
fbn.  'Tis  truc,  our  Defign  is  to  tame  and  polifh  an 
uncultivated  World  )  but  if  this  World  be  fo  mad  and 
favage  as  ncver  to  be  tam'd,  then  I  do  but  teach  aa 
Afs  Latin^  and  wafh  an  Sthiop, 

XJnion  cf  Hearts,  and  Impotence  to  bear 
Thy  Sorrows^  Friend^  tranfported  me  thm  far 
IVith  Sympathetic  Fury,  mt  my  own  ; 
But  now  my  Reafon  reaffiimes  the  Throne, 
Jndfirikes  my  Faffion  dumh. 

W  E  R  E  I  a  Heathen  Philofopher,  perhaps  I  might 
thus  loofely  philofophize  ;  if  I  were  a  mere  Orator,  cr 
a  Poet,  I  would  chide  and  flourifh  at  this  rate ;  but  as  I 
pretend  to  be  a  Chriftian,  1  muft  recant  it  all,  and 
put  thefe  cooler  Thoughts  in  the  Place  of  It. 

W  H  E  N  our  fovereign  Creator  form'd  our  Souls, 
and  fent  thcm  to  inhabit  thefe  two  Engines  of  Flcfli, 
which  were  then  a  framing  for  you  and  me,  he  knew 
well  what  a  World  he  fent  us  into,  and  defigned 
our  Converfe  to  be  with  Men  ({hali  I  fay)  of  like  In- 
firmities  with  ourfelves  :  For  if  thcy  are  perverfe  and 
intradtablc,  perhaps  we  are  proud,  imperious  and  uif- 
dainful  j  aiid  perhaps  too,  VrC  are  fcldom  fo  much  in 

the 


iu  P  R  0  s  E  and  V  e r  s  e.       I9> 

tliC  ri2;ht  as  wc  thinlc  ourfelves  to  be  ;  'tis  probable 
tliat  Miiids  rclcas'd  from  Flcfh,  and  the  Genii  of  a 
higlier  Rcgion  may  fmile  at  fome  of  the  Fooleries  and 
airy  Shapes  of  Reafon  which  we  hug  and  embrace,  as 
.jnuch  as  we  do  at  the  fcnfelefs  Notions  and  obftinate 
Pradiccs  of  our  Fcllow-mortals,  whom  we  have  the 
Vanity  to  think  fo  much  beneath  ourfelves.  Poor 
vvcak  Reafoners  are  we  and  they,  when  compared 
with  thc  Worlds  above  us ! 

B  u  T  to  drop  thisThought  :  I  fay  ftill,  God  dc- 
fmncd  us  to  dwell  hcre  in  fuch  a  wretched  World,  and 
I  grant  'tis  no  fmall  Part  of  our  State  of  Trial  j  but  to 
alleviate  our  Unhappinefs,  he  has  minglcd  in  the  Mafs 
oi  Majikind  fome  fincr  Vcins,  fome  more  inteIle<SluaI 
and  unprejudiced  Spirits,  in  whofe  Converfation  we 
may  find  fuitabie  Delight,  and  Pleafures  worthy  of  the 
rational  Nature.  Why  fliould  not  v/e  fuppofe  therc 
are  many  other  Minds  as  happily  turn'd  as  our  own^ 
and  of  fuperior  Sizc  and  niore  divine  Temper  ?  All 
Men  have  not  been  blcfs'd  with  our  Advantages,  yet 
their  native  Felicity  of  Thought  may  tranfcend  ours* 
And  as  for  the  reft,  God  has  ordain'd  it  our  Duty  to' 
aflbciate  with  'em  for  valuable  Ends  and  Purpofes  inr 
Jiii  Pjovidcnce,  which  regard  both  them  and  us.  'Tis 
our  Bufinefs  to  cndcavour  to  perfuade  'em  to  lay  afidc 
thcir  miftakcn  Notions,  to  remove  all  the  Byafles  of 
Error  from  their  Judgmcnt,  to  qucnch  thcir  Indigna- 
liQli  againft  Mcn  of  diftcrcnt  Opinions,  and  to  inlargc 
k  2  thci:' 


1^6       MifcellaffeotisThoiights, 

their  narfow  Souls,  tho'  we  find  it  a  difficult  Work. 
i    have   often  feen  what  you  complain  of,  and  have 
been  ready  to  conclude  that  when  we  have  to  do  with 
vulgar  Souls,  we  fhould  not  lavifli  away  our  Labour  to 
convince    them  of  innocent   Miftakes  in  Matters  of 
fmall  Importance,  but  only  lay  out  our  Thoughts  to 
rectify  their  Notions  in  Things  that  regard  their  prc- 
iea-t  ox  future  Welfare.     And   when  we   refleil  how 
very  impotent  and  low  are  the  Capacities  of  fome  ig- 
norant  Creatures  that  we  have  to  do  wlth,  how  fhort 
their  Reaforiings,  how  few   tlieir  Advantages  to   im- 
i>rave    fhcir    Minds,  how   uncapable  their  Judgments 
afe  Q.f  growing  up  to  a  folid  and  mature  State  by  our 
ittrrioft .  Cultivation,    and    how    unable   their  Minds 
are  in  many  Cafes  to  difcern  and  diftinguifli  Truth  ;  I 
;   ixave  been  tempted    to  perfuade   myfelf,  it  is  not  dif- 
^  iioiKftjJRcflicy  to  engage  their  Affedlions  a  httle.     I 
\  know  vvell,  that  the    Paffions   were   aever   made  to 
ijadge  of  Truth  ;  but  if  we  find  Perfons  who  will  ne- 
Ver  judge  by  any  other.RuIe,  I  would  make  Enquiry 
iVhether  we   might  not  in  fome  Cafes  honeftly  make 
nfe  of  this.     If  we  find  that  Affedion  is  the  great  Gate 
of  Entrance  into  xhs.  Judgjnents.  of  the  Multitude,  and 
Rjjafon   is  but  hke  tlie  Back-Door,  or  fome  meaner 
Avenue,  and  feldom  open'd  to  let  in  any  Doilrine, 
may  we  not  tbence  infer,  that  the  fofter  Arts  of  win- , 
niag  upon  Men,  are  to  be.ftudied  by  us  as  well  as  hard 
Areuments .'' 


How 


/«  Pros  E  ^;/^  Verse.        la/ 

How  have  I  moiirned  inwardly,  to  confider  th.il 
even  pious  and  holy  Souls  have  been  (o  over-run  with 
Ignorance  and  Zeal,  (that  is,  with  Fire  and  Dark- 
nefs)  and  have  been  (o  poflelTcd  with  narrow  Thoughts 
and  uncharitah;c  Notions,  that  it  muft  be  the  Work 
of  an  Age,  or  thePovver  of  a  God, .  tocorre<5l  thei; 
Errors.  Yet  I  reflecl  again,  that  my  Maker  in  hi 
wife  Providence  difpofed  my  Lot  amongfl:  Perfons  ot' 
tliis  Conftitution,  and  expccts  that  I  fhould  carry  it 
amongft 'em,  as  it  becomes  one  to  Wihom  he  bas  in- 
dulged  higher  Favours  ;  t))at  I  ftiould  ftrhie  wit;i 
Conftancy  to  reduce  my  Neighbours  toThoughtfu!- 
.  nefs,  Virtue  and  Religion,  and  not  be  tir'd  and  defif^, 
tho'  I  fuid  but  httle  Succcfs  ;  'tis  a  coward  Soldier 
tbat  dechncs  thc  Pight,  bccaufc  he  can't  every  Da\ 
gaiii  a  uew  V  idory. 

W  H  E  N    I  recount    how   many  weary   Months 

my  Saviour   fpent  in  preacliing  divine  Doctrines  to  a 

wild  Multitude,  and  to  thcir  more  conceited  Leaders, 

and  how  little,  very  littlc  Fruit  he  found  whilft  he  was 

upon  Earth  ;  I  pcrfuade  myfclf  'twas   with  a  Defigu 

to  encourage  his  Followers  in  the  Gofpel,  and  bccomc 

a  Pattern  of  Patience  to  fuch  as  ftiould  meet  with  the 

fame  Difappointments.     Tbo'  Ifrael  te  not  gatkcred,   yef 

Jurely  my  Judgment  is  with  the  Lord,  and  my  RacarJ 

luith  my   God.     If  I  can't   bring  Jacob  again  to  bis 

Duty,  yet  Jhall  I  be  gloriotts  in  the  Eyes  ofthe  Lord,  cnd 

my   Goi  jhall  le  my  Strength,  Ifa.  xlix!  4,  5.     l-hefe 

K  3  wcrc 


198        Mtfcellaneous  Tboughts, 

were  the  Encouragements  oftheSon  of  God  himfelf^ 
when  dweUing  in  feeble  Flefb,  and  contending  with 
an  obilinate  and  vicious  Age  ;  and  St.  Paul^  the  next 
in  Dignity  to  the  Man  Jefm,  expecled  to  be  afvceet 
Siiivur  iinto  God  in  them  that  perijh,  as  ■well  as  in  thoje 
that  were  faved,  2  Cor.  ii.  15.  If  we  can't  turn 
itupid  and  headftrong  Sinners  from  the  Errors  of  their 
Way,  we  muft  not  fufer  ourfelves  to  fwim  with  the 
Tide,  nor  fall  into  a  Comphance  with  thcir  miftak.cn 
Notions  and  Praclices.  'Tis  our  Bufmels  to  move 
right  onward  towards  Hca\'en,  through  the  midft  of 
a  Multitude  that  are  travelling  ajiotlw?r  Way.  The 
greater  the  Exercife  of  our  Patience  is,  the  weightier 
will  be  our  Crown  ;  and  if  we  have  broke  through  a 
Multitude  of  Difficukies  in  our  Journey  toward  Para- 
dife,  our  Rewards  will  not  be  few.  He  that  overcomes 
Jhall  cat  of  the  Tree  cf  Life.  Large  and  Ihining  and 
durable  Glories,  in  a  rich  and  pleafing  Variety,  are 
made  over  by  Promife  to  thofe  that  overcome,  if  we 
can  but  read  the  fecond  and  third  Chapters  of  the  ^- 
zelations,  and  believe  them, 

F  A  R  E  w  E  L ,  my  Pocyon,  and  perfevere  in  Pati- 
ence  to  teach  Mankind,  nor  forget  to  continue  your 
heartieft  Love  and  Inftrudions  to 

Tcur  Afe^isncHe  Livcr  cnd  v:illing  Difciplf, 


Newington, 
1697-8, 


Uh 


m 


P  R  0  s  E  and  Y  e  r  s  z^      19  j^ 


LI. 

Tublick    DlSPUTATIONS. 

CINCE  the  true  Defign  of  Philofophy  is  to  Icarn 
and  know  the  Truth,  and  to  rcnder  that  Knov.- 
[edge  fubfervient  to  our  Practice  and  Happinefs  here  an  J 
hereafter,  how  abfurd  and  impertinent  are  the  Me- 
thods  oi  ihQ,  Ari/lotelian  Sihools,  who  have  changeu  this 
Defign  into  mcre  Scphi/Iry  and  the  Art  of  Difputation  ? 
They  make  Logick  and  Prime  Phikfophy  to  be  no 
longer  the  Shop  or  Work-houfe  to  form  proper  lr~ 
ftruments  to  fearch  out  Truth,  cr  to  tcacli  Virtue, 
for  tiiey  turn  it  into  a  Seminary  of  Alitrcations.  When 
they  fpcak  of  a  young  Philofopher,  there  is  no  Enqui- 
ry,  Iiow  wifc  or  how  good  a  Man  he  is,  but  how 
skilful  a  Difputer.  Hethat  knows  how  to  attack  ancl 
foil  his  Adverfar)',  to  ftand  his  Ground  and  dcfenJ 
iiimftlf  and  his  Thefis  againft  all  Oppofition  ;  this  i-? 
the  Man  of  Merit  and  Honour.  Then  they  imagine 
they  have  attain'd  the  nioft  plentiful  Fruits  of  Philo- 
fophy,  when  thcy  can  bravely  oppofe  and  defend  any 
Themes  whatfoever  in  Publick,  by  Arguments  Ia 
Form  and  Figure. 

K  4  I  WILI/ 


^co       Mifcellaneous  Tboughts, 

I  w  I  L  L  not  deny  but  fome  private  Converfatiom  m 
the  manner  of  Difputc  may  have  a  Tendcncy  to  dif- 
cover  Truth,  when  they  are  carried  on  without  Spec- 
tators,  without  Paflion  or  Party-Spirit  ;  and  that  on 
this  Condition,  that  on  which  Side  foever  Probability 
and  Truth  appcar,  each  of  the  .Difputants  fhall  be 
ready  to  give  up  his  own  Opinion,  and  furrender  it  to 
the  Force  and  Evidencc  of  Rcafon.  But  when  Con- 
tcfls  are  fo  managed,  that  Difputations  are  become 
publick  Spedacles,  and  each  of  the  Combatants  aijn 
at  nothing  fo  much  as  alwa)'s  to  conquer,  and  never  to 
yield,  it  is  impolTiblc  that  Truth  {hould  ever  be  fought 
or  found  in  this  manner.  'Tis  much  morelikely  that 
if  (he  were  prefent,  (he  would  withdraw  herfelf  from 
fo  profene  and  ill-deferving  a  Rout  of  Men.  Truth 
is  loft  in  fuch  Difputing.  The  gcnuine  Study  of 
Truth,  which  is  true  Phihfphy,  is  a.ferene  and  gentle 
thing,  and  may  be  compafd  to  the  River  Niky  that 
tho'  it  flows  with  a  foft  and  placid  Stream,  yet  it  ren- 
ders  the  whuie  Country  fruitful,  and  carries  more 
Profit  and  Plcnty  with  it,  than  all  the  Torrents  and 
rapid  Rivers  that  pour  down  with  Noife  and  Vlolence, 

Bu  T  what  a  ridiculous  Scene  is  a  SchoJaflick  Difpu- 
tation  !  a  mere  Stage-Play  !  where  two  Combatants 
meet,  and  with  Rounds  and  Flourifhes,  with  many 
Feints  and  Approachings  and  Retirings,  with  Diflinc- 
tions  heap'd  upon  Diftindlions,  to  exclude  from  the 
Queftion  what  no   Man  ev^r  could  doubt  or  difpute, 

thcy 


in  Prose  kud  Verse.       2.01 

they  come  at  lafl  to  the  Point  in  hanu  ;  and  their 
grand  Dcfign  is,  that  cach  of  tliem  may  Tcape  fafe, 
Without  being  forced  to  yicld  up  his  Point,  Thus 
when  they  arc  put  to  a  Plunge,  thev  talk  whatfoex^cr 
comes  uppcrmoft,  they  raife  niutual  Sccfis  and  Cla- 
mours  and  loud  Reproache?,  and  fcarce  with-hold 
themfelves  from  manual  Confli6l,  when  theirTongucf 
ha\e  done  their  utmoft.  And  if  one  of  them  liappcii 
to  filence  and  overwhelm  his  Advcrfar)',  how  vain  he 
grows  !  how  he  fvvells  and  cxalts.himfelf !  What  Airs 
of  Arrogance  he  afTumes !  as  tho'  llke  Hercuks  he  had 
dei1roy'd  an  Hydi  a^  or  likQ  Jtuis  he  had  fupported  a 
-World  ;  when  perhaps  the  Truth  lies  bleeding  on  the 
Ground,  and  by  his  fophiftick  Subtilties  and  his  braw^ 
ling  Battle  he  has  fupported  fome  grofs  Error,  and 
eflabliftied  Falfhood  in  triumph,  The  great  GaJJenJus 
was  deeply  fenfible  of  thls  FoIIy  Fourfcore  Years  ago,. 
and  declaims  againft  the  ProfefTors  of  Jtyhiclidn  Lo- 
gick  md  Philofophy  in  his  Day  upon  this  Account. 

Y  E  T  perhaps  it  is  po/Tible  that  Academlc  Difputa-- 
tiofis  may  be  reduced  to  fuch  a  Form,  and  put  under 
fuch  Regulations,  as  to  render  them  ferviceable  for  fomc 
good  Purpofes  among  Students  in  the  Schools.  But 
I  have  difcourfed  more  largely  on  this  Subje<5l  in  foinc 
Papers  relatlng  to  the  varicus  Methods  of  Improvi\ig  th» 
MinJ,  ^\  , 


K  5  LIJ 


201       Mtfcellaneous  Tboughts, 


LII. 

^evotional  W  r  i  t  i  n  g  s. 

p  E  R  H  A  P  S  it  is  a  Wifh  too  glorious  and  happy 

to  be  cver  fulfill'd  in  this  State  of  Mortality,  to 

fee  all  the  Difciples  of  Chrijl  grown  up  into  fuch  a 

Catholick  Spirit,  as  to  be  ready  to  worfhip  God  their 
common  Father,  through  "Jefus  their  common  Me- 
diator,  in  the  fame  Afrembly,  and  to  join  in  the  fame 
holy  Fellowfhip.  There  are  fo  many  Pun6tilio's  ol 
Difference  to  be  adjufled,  and  fo  many  Party-Prejudi- 
ces  to  be  o\ercome,  that  fuch  a  Union  of  Hearts  and 
Scntiments  lies  beyond  our  prefent  Hope.  Yet  me- 
thinks  everj'  Step  towards  fuch  a  Union,  carries  a  Blef- 
fmg  in  it,  and  every  Chriftian  fhould  defire  to  pro- 
mote  it.  Bohemui  was  a  German  Divine,  of  various 
Knowledge  and  fcdate  Judgment,  of  admirable  Tem- 
per  and  uncommon  Piety  :  He  had  obferved  long  the 
Difputcs  and  Divifions  in  England  about  the  Irapofition 
and  the  Ufe  of  Forms  of  Prayer  ;  he  ftood  by  as  a 
Stranger  ajid  a  Spedator,^  nor  took  any  Part  Ln  the 
ContTOverfy,  but  vvith  an  indifFercnt  Eye  beheld  their 
Difputcs,  and  thought  himfelf  on  that  account  the 
fitter  to  become  a  Moderator  bctvveen  both,.  beino- 
lindcf  thc  Influeiice  of  no  Prejudice  jior  Party. 

I    K  K  0  W> 


in  Prose  and  Verse.      103 

I   K  N  o  w,  faid  hc,  the  Church  of  England  hatli 
long  Prefcriptlon  on  thcir  Side  for  the  Ufe  of  Forms 
in  their  Publick  Afiemblies,  tho'  thcy  cannot  fay  frcm 
the  firft  Beginning  of  Chriftianity,  nor  will  I.    They 
argue,  and  with  much  Force  and  Evidence,  that  what 
we  addrefs  to  the  great  God  ought  to  be  duly  confider- 
ed,  nor  fhould  our  Lips  pour  our  Words   rafhly,    nor' 
ofFcr   to   our  Maker  the  Sacrifice  of  Fools.     What, 
lay  they,  cannot   Men  of  Learning,    Prudence   and 
Piety  compofe  better  Prayers  for  us  than  \ve  can  utter 
on  a  fudden  before  God,  and  much  fltter  for  the  Ear 
of  his  Majcfty  r  Ought  we  not  to  ferve  God  with  our 
bcft  ?    And  when  we  have  fuch  happy,  devout  and  af» 
fectionate  Prayers  madc  to   our  hands,  by    Men  of 
great  Worth  and  fingulur  Goodnefs,  why  fhould  we 
ofier  up  to  God  fuch  poor,  lean,  raw   Sacrifices,  fucb 
loofe   Sentences  and  weak  Exprcflions,   as   our  own 
Thoughts  on  a  fudden  can  furnifh  us  with  ? 

B  E  s  I  D  £  s,  fay  they,  is  hiventwi  the  chicf  Ta- 
lent  we  are  called  to  exercife  when  we  bow  our 
Kncca  before  God  ?  Is  the  Toil  of  our  Iniagination, 
and  the  Labour  of  finding  out  proper  Thouglus  and 
Words,  our  chief  Bunnefo  at  tlie  Throne  of  Grace  ? 
Should  not  our  Faith,  our  Hope,  our  Love,  our  Re- 
pciuance  for  Sin,  our  Dcnre  of  Mcrcy,  and  every 
Chrillian  V^irtue  wluch  rclatcs  to  Worfhip,  be  thc 
ciiief  Excrcifes  of  our  Spirits  ?  Should  not  thelc  bc 
.  fuprcmcly  engagcd  at  fuclj  a  Scafon  ?   Lct  Fancy  and 

Inven 


204        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

Invention  therefore  lie  at  reft,  which  are  meaner 
Powers  of  the  Soul,  while  the  Graces  and  Virtues, 
and  devout  Sentiments  of  the  Heart  are  excrted  by 
reading  or  hearing  a  well  compofed  Form. 

O  N  the  other  hand,  I  know  it  is  the  Opinion  of 
the  Protejhmt  Dijjenters^  that  fmce  Prayer  is  but  the 
Expreffion  of  our  Senfe  of  divineThings  to  God,  there 
is  no^  Man  who  can  fpeak  his  Mother-Tongue,  fo  de- 
iiitute  of  Words,  but  that  he  is  able  with  Eafe  to  ex- 
p/efs  his  owTi  Sins,  and  Sorrows,  his  own  Hopes  and 
Fears,  his  own  Faith,  and  his  Defircs  bcfore  God, 
in-  fuch  Language  as  God  underftands  and  aceepts  ; 
and  that  there  is  no  Man  callcd  by  Provideuce  to  pray 
in  the  Prefence  of  others,  and  to  lift  up  their  joint  Ad- 
drefles  to  Heaven,  but  he  is,  or  ought  to  be,  fufficient- 
ly  furniflicd  with  Knowiedge  and  Language  to  perforin 
this  Part  of  Worfliip  in  a  proper  and  becoming  Man- 
ner,  to  the  Ediiication  of  himfclf  and  thofe  who  join 
with  him.  I  know  alfo,  faith  he,  it  hath  been  Matter 
ef  frequent  Complaint  among  them,  that  the  confl-ant 
artd  unvaried  Repetition  oi  Sett  Forms  of  Prayer  has  a 
great  Tendency  to  introduce  Coldnefs  and  Formality 
into  divine  Worfllip.  Tho'  the  Conftfilons,  the  Pe- 
tiiions  and  Praifes  are  never  fo  happily  framed,  and  the 
ExpreiTions  never  fo  proper  and  pathetick,  yet,  Ctxy 
they,  where  the  fame  Sett  of  Words  and  Phrafes  pafs 
over  the  Ears  in  a  confliant  Rehearfal,  the  Soul  by  de- 
grees  lofes  thofe  lively  Influences  and  devout  Senfa- 
•aons  which  it  at  firfl:  received  from  them  j    and  the 

con- 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       lo^ 

continual  Round  of  uniform  Expreflions  roUingon  in  a 
bcaten  Track,  maices  little  more  Impreflion  upon  the 
Heart,  than  a  Wheel  that  has  often  ti-averd  through  a 
hardcn'd  Road. 

A  N  D  yet,  further  they  fay,  there  is  no  IVTan 
knows  my  Thoughts,  my  Wants  and  my  Defires  fo 
well  as  I  do  myfelf  j  and  where  the  Heart  and  the 
Thoughts  of  a  Chriflian  are  imprifoned  and  reftrain- 
ed  by  the  Words  of  any  Form,  fo  as  not  to  gire 
himfeh^the  hberty  of  expreffing  his  own  prefent  de- 
vout  Breathings  towards  God,  whatfoever  holy  E!e- 
vations  of  Soul  he  may  feel  within  himfelf,  this  brings 
a  heavy  Damp  upon  the  inward  Devotion  of  the 
Heart,  it  binds  the  Soul  in  uneafy  Fetters,  it  appears 
to  carry  in  it  a  Refiftance  of  thefe  good  Motions  of 
the  blefled  Spirit,  whofe  AlTiflance  is  promifed  us  m 
Prayer,  becaufe  we  kncw  not  ivhdt  to  pray  for  as 
ue  ctight,  and  the  Spirit  niaketh  hitercejjion  for  us^ 
(or  /;/  w,)  according  to  the  Will  cf  God,  Rom.  viij, 
Such  a  Reftraint  is  indeed  painful  to  a  holy  and  de- 
vout  Worfhipper,  it  cuts  fhort  the  Chriflian  in  the 
Pleafure  ©f  his  Ccnverfe  with  Heaven,  while  it  makes 
him  fpeak  to  God  the  Thoughts  of  othcr  Men,  and 
hc  negledis  his  own. 

H  A  V I  N  G  reprefented  in  /hort,  fomething  of  the 
Senfc  of  both  Parties  on  this  Subjca:,  I  fhall  not  tarry 
now,  faid  Bohemus,  to  relate  how-  each  Party  defend 
Lhemfelves  againfl   tlie    Diiliculcies  objeaed   by   the 

otxherj 


zo6       Mifcellaneous  Tboughts, 

other^  but  I  bcg  Leave  to  interpofe  a  little,  and  en- 
quire  why  Mankind,  when  their  Sentiments  ,differ, 
Ihould  be  (o  fond  of  running  into  Extreams  ?  Is  there 
no  Ufe  to  be  made  of  the  devout  Compofures  of  holy 
Men,  without  confining  ourfelves  to  all  the  Words 
and  Syllables  of  tlieir  Writings  ?  May  we  not  cnjoy 
their  Help,  without  making  them  our  abfolute  Di<Sla- 
tors  ?  Whatfoever  Inconveniency  may  arife  from  the 
eonrtant  Ufe  or  unalterable  Impofition  of  Yoxm^  of 
Prayer,  yet  certainly  there  is  very  confiderable  Bene- 
fit  and  Alfiftance  in  thc  Chriflian  Life  to  be  derived 
from  Devotional  Compofitions.  Such  Forms  of  pious 
Addrefs  to  God  as  are  drawn  from  a  ferious  Senfe  of 
divine  Things,  and  framed  by  a  skilful  and  judicious 
Hand,  has  given  rich  Advantages  to  a  fincere  Wor- 
fliipper,  both  in  foHtary  and  focial  Worfliip.  Many 
a  holy  Soul  has  found  its  inward  Powers  awaken'd  and 
excited  to  Hvely  Religion  by  fuch  Afiiftances  j  many  a 
penitent  Groan  under  the  Senfe  of  Sin  ;  many  an  ar- 
dent  Petition  for  fonie  peculiar  Grace  or  \'irtue  ; 
many  a  pious  Afpiration  of  Heart,  and  many  a  joy- 
ful  Sound  of  Praife,  has  ,afcended  towards  Heaven  in 
the  Words  and  Language  of  fome  wcU  compofed 
Form.  And  I  am  v/ell  affured  the  blefTed  Spirit  of 
God  neither  confincs  his  facred  Influenccs  to  thofe  who 
vvorfliip  without  Forms,  nor  witii-holds  it  from  thofe 
who  ufe  them.  Both  have  need  of  his  Aid^  and  I  am 
jxrfuaded  both  do  partake  of  it, 


In'- 


/>;  pROSE  ^;/i  Verse.        207 

I  N  D  E  E  D  in  the  Ufe  of  Forms,  there  is  no  need 
of  binding  ourfeh^es  to  a  whole  Page  together,  as  it 
flands   in   the   Book.     In  thc  Name  of  God  let  us 
(land    faft  in  our  Chriftian  Liberty,  and  maintain  a 
juft  Freedom  of  Soul  in  our  Addrcffcs  to  Hea\'en  ;  let 
us  change,  enlarge   or  contrail,  let  us  add  or  omit, 
according  to  our  pecuhar  Sentiments,  or  our  prefent 
Framc  of  Spirit.     Mr.   'Jenb^    a  pious  Divine  of  the 
Church  ol  Etiglandy  has  written  an  excelient  Treatife 
af  the  Liberty  of  Prayer,  which  I  dare  recommend  to 
every  Sort  of  Reader.     i>ut  when  we  find  tlie  Tem- 
pcr,  the  Wants  and  the  Wifhes  of  our  Hcarts  fo  hap- 
pily  exprefs'd  in  thc  Words  of  tlie  Compofer,  as  tliat 
we  know  not  how  to  frame  othcr  Words  fo  fuitablc 
and  fo  exprefTive  of  our  own  prefent  State  and  Cafe,. 
why  fhould  we  not  addrefs  our   God  and  our  Saviour 
in  this  borrowed  Language  ?    I  confefs  indecd,  when. 
long  Cuftom  has  induccd  a  fort  of  Flatnefs  into  thefe 
Sounds,  how  happiiy   foever  the  Words  might  be  at 
firft  chofen,  then   perhaps  we  fliall   want  fomething 
new  and  various  to  keep  Nature  awake  to  the  Devo- 
tion.     Or  if  we  ftill  confine  ourfeh'es  entirely  to  the 
Forms  we  read,  and   forbid  our  Spirits  to  exert  thcir 
own  pious  Sentiments,  we  turn  thcfe  Engines  of  hoiy 
Elevation  into  Cbgs  and  Fetters.     But  when  Chri- 
ftians  make   a   prudent  ulc   of  them,  they  have  frc- 
quently    expcrienced   unknown    Advantagc   and  Dc- 
hght.     A  dull  and  hcavy  Hour  in  the  Clofet  has  been 
reheved    by    thc   ufe   of  fuch   devout  Compofures   of 
minj^lcd   Mcditation  aiid  Praycr  3  and  jnany  a  dry 

and 


ao8        Mtfcellaneoiis  Thoughts 

and  barren  Heart  Jias  been  enabled  to  offer  up  the  firfl 
Fruits  of  a  fweet  Sacriiice  to  God  in  the  Words  of 
another  Man.  The  Fire  of  Devotion  has  been  kind- 
kd  by  the  help  of  fome  ferious  and  pathetick  Forms, 
and  the  Spirit  of  the  Worfhipper,  which  has  been 
ftraiten'd  and  bound  up  in  itfelf,  has  found  a  bleffed 
Releafe  by  the  Pen  of  fome  pious  Writer.  The  Wings 
of  the  Soul  have  been  firft  expanded  toward  God  and 
Heaven  bv  fome  happy  Turn  of  fervent  and  holy 
Language  ;  fhe  has  been  Hfted  up  by  this  Afiiftanoe 
above  the  Earth  and  Mortality  j  then  fhe  has  given 
herfelf  a  more  unconfined  and  various  Fiight  in  the 
iipper  Regions,  fhe  has  traverfed  the  heavenly  World^ 
fhe  has  felt  herfelf  within  the  Circle  of  divine  Attrac- 
tion,  and  has  dwelt  an  Hour  with  God. 

T  H  E  good  Man  Bohemus  had  warmed  his  Imagi- 
natlon  a  little  by  this  vivid  manner  of  reprefenting  the 
Argumcnt.  His  Soul  catch'd  Fire,  was  feized  with  a 
facred  Enthufiafm,  and  broke  out  in  the  following 
Tranfport. 

Hail,  Hebrew  Pfalmift-King  !  Hail  happy  Hour  ! 
T  fee,  I  hear,  I  feel  the  Sovereign  Power- 
Of  Language  fo  dev-out.     Th'  immortal  Sbuni 
Trills  thro'  my  Vitals  with  a  pleafing  Wound, 
And  mortal  PafTions  die.     Devotion  reigns,  _ 

Earth  difappears,  her  Mountains  and  her  Plains,       C 
1  foar,  I  pray,  I  praife  in  X><zi'/V's  heavenly  Strains.> 

Htic 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       acp 

Here  Thoughts  divinc  in  living  Words  expreft, 

Pour'd  out  and  copied  glowing  from  the  Breafl, 

Spread  o're  the  facred  Page  ;  what  Eye,  what  Heart, 

Can  read  the  Rapture,  and  not  bear  its  Part 

In  holy  Elevation  ? 

Whcre  Lo\  e  and  Joy  exult,  the  glorious  Line 

Gives  the  fame  Pallions,  fpreads  the  Fire  divine, 

And  kindlcs  all  tlie  Reader.     Sec  him  rife 

On  Wings  of  Extafy,  fhoot  thro' the  Skies, 

And  mix  with  Angeb  3  Hail,  ye  Choirs  above, 

Where  all  ii  holy  Joy,  whcre  all  is  heavenly  Lo^c. 

If  Sins  revicw'd  in  trickling  Scrrows  flow; 
The  Page  conveys  the  penitcntial  Woe, 
And  ftrikcs  the  inmoft  Spirit.     Confcience  hears 
The  Words  of  Anguifli,  and  dinblves  in  Tears. 
•  Ev'n  Iron  Souls  reient,  and  Hearts  of  Stone 
Burft  atthefc  Mournlngs,  and  rcpcat  txic  Groan  i 
God  and  his  Power  arc  therc. 

Formijhs  and  Lihero  were  prefent  whlle  Bchemus  was 
carry'd  away  in  thii  furpriftng  Rapture.  The  laft  had 
been  educated  in  too  great  an  Averfion  to  Forms  of 
Prayer,  and  the  firft  never  thought  of  addrefling  GoJ 
without  'em  ;  but  bctb  were  deeply  ftruck  vvnth  Con- 
vidtion  at  this  Speecii  of  Bohemus  ;  they  confefsM  that 
they  had  liv'd  ail  thcir  Da}'s  in  Extremes,  and  beguii 
to  contcls  their  JVliftake. 

/.     S  u  R  E  L  Y,    fays  Libero^  Written  Prayers  are  not 
fuch   formidable  Things  as  I   once   imagined  them, 

efpecially 


2,10        Mtfcellaneous  Thoughtf, 

efpecially  fince  wc  are  not  pinned  down  to  evcry  Sen^ 
tence,    but    maintain  a  jhA:  Liberty  to  altef  as  we- 
pleafe.     And  yet  further,  now  I   think  of  it,  Chrt- 
ftians  of  every  Party  find  it  no  Hindrance  to  the  dc- 
vout  Melody  and   Praife  which  they  ofFer  to  God, 
that  thcy  have  the  Words  of  a  facred  Song  provided 
for  them  before-hand  ;  and  'tis  as  certain  that  compo- 
fed  Forras  of  Praj-er  are  evidcntly  ufeful,  if  not  necef- 
fary,  for  the  AfTiftance  of  Children,  to  train  them  up 
to  this  Part  of  Worfhip,  and  lead  them  in  the  Way 
ro  private  Devotion  in  their  younger  Years  ;  and  why^ 
fhould   they    not  be  happy  Expedicnts  to  reheve  the 
Weaknefs   of   the    Bulk    of   Chriflians  ?      Certainly 
they  are  fo,  reply'd  Bchemus^  fbr  if  we  confider  Man- 
kind  in  the  various  Ranks,  Conditions  and  Circum- 
ftances  of  Life,  and  take  a  jufl  Survcy  of  the  many 
infirmities  that  furround  human  Nature,  and  the  nu- 
merous  Weights  that  hang  upon  the  Soul,  if  we  obferve 
the  perpetual  Diverfion  from  the  l"hings  of  God,  to- 
which  the  Mind  is  expofed  by  conflant  Bufinefs  in  the 
World,  if  vve  think  of  the  low  Capacity,  fcanty  Fur- 
niture   and   poor  Livention  of  many  ferious  Perfons 
whofe  Hearts  have  a  finccre  Tendency  toward  God, 
and  their  want  of  Words  to  exprefs  even  the  pious 
Thoughts  that  arife  within  'em,  may  we  not  fuppofe 
that  they  would  be  thankful  for  fome  fuch  AfTiflances 
\\\  this  Work  of  inward  ReJigion,  if  they  were  but 
once  furnifh'd  with  them  by  their  Friends,  and  en- 
couraged  to  make  ufe  of  them  ;  and  even  the  wifefl 
and  befl  of  Men  might  be.  glad  of  them  at  fome  Sea- 
fons,  A  N  D 


in 


pROSE  andV^BKS-E.       211 


A  N  D    let  me  add  alfo,   faid  he,  there  Is  many- 
a  Family  whlch  would  liavc  lived  to  this  Day  with- 
out  paying  Homage  to  the  God  of  Nature  and  Grace 
in  foclal  Worfhip,  which   has   becn  enabled   by   the 
Hclp    of  pious  Forms   to  maintain  daily  Religion  in 
thc  Houfe,    and  the  Children  and  thc  Scrvants  of  thc 
Family  have  been  trained  up  to  conftant  Devotion  and 
daily  Acknowledgment  of  God,  by  thefe  Affiftance?,. 
borrowcd  from    holy  and   skilful  Writers  ;  and  God 
forbid   that   any   Houfe   among    Chriftlans  fhould  be 
Prayerlefs,  fince  thefe  devout  Compofitions  arc  fo  eafy 
to  bc  had. 

T  H I  s   is  wcll  knovi^n  and  abundantly   praftifed 

amongft   the  Chriflians  of  the  Efiablilh'd    Church. 

and   they   rejoice  in   it   as  their  Privilege  and  their 

conftant  Blefling  j  whereas  I  fear  there  are  fome  a- 

mong  thc  Proteftant  DifTenters  have  been  educated 

with  fuch  an  unreafonable  and  fuperftitlous  Averfion  to 

all  prccompofed  Prayers,  that  a  few  of  them,  even  to 

this  Day,  arc  hardly  willing  that  Chi!dren  and  igno- 

rant  Perfons  fliould  ufc  them  ;  and  therc  are  but  few, 

I  doubt,    who  give  themfeves  leave  to  make  a  full  and 

proper  Ufe  of  fuch  Advantages  wlth  which  our  Natlon 

and  our  Age  are  furnifli'd.     Dr.  P(2trick^  Dr.  Ijmct, 

Dr.  Mcriton  and  Mr.  Jaih^  with  feveral  other  worthy 

Divines,  have  done   much    this  Way  j  fome   of  thc 

Diflenters  themfclves  have  glven  Afliftance  in  this  Af- 

fair,  and  have  compofed  Forms  of  Addrefs   to   God 

upon 


±1%        Mifcellaneous  Thorigh^s, 

upon  the  common  Occafions  of  Life,  as  well  as  upon 
the  various  Thenies  of  the  Chriftian  Religion.  Mr. 
Baxter  in  the  laft  Age,  and  Mr.  Howe  \  and  in  this 
Century  Mr.  Murrey^  Mr.  Bourne^  and  others  ;  and 
I  wifli  this  fort  of  Devotional  Writings  were  multi- 
ply'd  among  them. 

I  ACKNOWLEDGE,  fays  Lihero^  this  is  tlic 
Cafe  3  we  have  fomc  unhappy  Prejudices  ftill  hanging 
about  our  Spirits,  in  making  a  religious  Ufe  of  wrilteii 
or  printed  Praycrs,  either  in  our  Rctirements,  or  iii 
the  Family  ;  and  I  am  now  fenfible  this  has  bereaved 
us  of  thofe  Advanti-iges  for  the  Rcligion  of  the  Clofet 
and  the  Houfiiold,  which  our  Neighbours  partake  of> 
and  wbich  we  might  enjoy  with  gveat  Liberty  of  Soul» 
and  rejoice  in  with  rich  Improvement.  I  tliank  ycu 
from  my  Heart,  dear  Bchemus^  for  the  LelTon  I  havc 
learnt  of  you  this  Day,  and  I  will  endeavour  that 
many  of  my  Friends  fliall  learn  it  too,  that  they  may 
no  more  renounce  that  fpiritual  AiTiftance  and  Relicf 
which  may  be  borrowcd  from  pious  Compofures;  and 
efpecially  that  Mafters  of  Families  may  begin  to  make  a 
happy  ufe  of  them  intheir  Houfhold,  and  worfliip  God 
by  thefe  Helps,  when  they  want  them,  without  the  leaft 
Reftraint  laid  eitlier  upon  the  juft  Frecdom  of  their  own 
Spirits,  or  the  Hopesof  divine  Infiuenccs. 

And  I,  for  my  Part,  (zith  Formifles,  return  you 
my  fmcere  Thanks,  good.  Bohemus,  that  you  havc 
mark'd  out  fo  happy  a  IVledium  between  an  utter  Re- 

jeilion 


in  P R o s E  a7id  Verse.       213 

jeillon  of  all  Forms  of  Prayer,  and  an  abfolute  Con- 
finement  of  ourfelves   to   them.      I  cannot  but  ac- 
knowledge  I  have  fometimcs  found  invv^ard  Motions  of 
Repentance  for  particular  Sins,  of  humble  Defires  to- 
wards  God,  and  Wiflies  for  AiTillance  againft  particu- 
lar  Temptations  and  Snares,  while  I  have  been  reading 
my  written  Devotions,  and  yet  I  was  unwilling  to  ex- 
prefs  them  with  my  Tongue,  left  I  fhould  utter  any 
thing  raQiIy  before  God.     But  upon  what  you  have 
faid,    I   now   give  inyfelf  leave  to   think,  that    the 
fmcere  Workings  of  a   Man's  Heart  towards  Virtue 
and  Religion,  andThings  of  the  upper  World,  are  beft 
known  to  himfelf,  and  may  be  exprefb'd  by  himfelf, 
when  they  arife  in  his  Heart,  in  fuch  Language  as  a 
gracious  God  will  accept.     I  fhall  never  more  there- 
fore  fupprefs  thefe  good   Defires  for  want  of  Courage 
to  utter  them  .,  but  while   I   make  ufe  of  Forms  of 
Worfhip  compofed  by  pious  and  learned  Men,  I  fhall 
remember  that  they  werc  defigned  only  as  AfTiftances 
to  my  Devotion,  and  not  impofe  'em  on  my  Confcience 
as  Reftraints  upon  all  the  good  Motions  of  the  blefted 
Splrlt,   which  our  Church  teaches  us  humbly  to  pray 
for,  and    to   expe6l  according  to  the  divine  Projpiife. 
And  fmce  the  holy  Scripture  often  requires  us  to  pray 
to  God,  but   never  prefcribes  to  us  whether  we  Ihould 
ufe  our  own  Wprds,  or  thc  Words  of  other  Men,  I 
will  learn  for  the  futurc  to  look  upon  that  as  a  Matter 
of  greater  Indifterency  than  lonce  thought  it,  and  not 
make  that  a    Duty  for  myfelf,  which  God  has  not 
nude   fo,  nor  chargc  my  Neigijbour  Libcro  with  Sin, 

Ibr 


^14        Mifcellaneous  Thougbts, 

for  praying  m  fuch  a  free  Manner  as  God  has  ncver 
forbid. 


LIII. 

u^jt   Elegy    on    SopHRONiA,    who 
died  of  the  Small- ToXy  1 7 1 1 . 

S  o  P  H  R  0  N  is  wtroduced  fpeaking. 

I. 

T?  Orbear,  my  Friends,  forbear,  and  ask  no  morc, 
•^        Where  all  my  chearful  Airs  are  flcJ  ? 
Why  will  ye  make  me  talk  my  Torments  o're  ? 
My  Lifcj  my  Joy,  my  Comfort's  dead. 

n. 

Dcep  from  my  Soul,  mark  how  the  Sobs  arife, 

Hcar  the  long  Groans  th^it  wafte  my  Brcath, 

And  read  the  mighty  Sorrow  in  my  E^-es, 
"Lovely  Sophn?iia  fleeps  in  Death. 

lU. 

Unkind  Difeafe,  to  vail  that  rofy  Face 

With  TuTmours  of  a  mortal  Pale, 
While  mortal  Purples  with  their  dlfmal  Grace 

And  double  Horr^r  fpot  thc  Vail, 

IV. 


i;/  pROSE  ^«^  Verse.       zi^ 

IV. 
Uncomely  Vail,  and  moft  unkind  Difeafe  ! 

Is  this  Sophmiui,  once  the  Fair  ? 
Are  thefe  the  Features  that  were  born  to  pleafe  ? 

And  Beauty  fpread  her  Enfigns  there  ? 

V. 

I  was  all  Love,  and  fhe  was  all  Dehght 

Let  me  run  back  to  Seafons  paft  ; 
Ah  flow'ry  Days  when  firft  (he  charm'd  my  Sigljt  J 

But  Rofcs  will  not  always  laft. 

VI. 

Yct  ftill  Sophronia  pkas'd.     Nor  Time,  nor  CarCj 
Could  take  her  youthful  Bloom  away  : 

Virtue  has  Charms  which  nothing  can  impair  j 
Beauty  like  her's  could  ne'rc  decay. 

VII. 
-Gracc  Is  a  facred  Plant  of  heavcnly  Birth  : 

The  Seed  defcending  from  abovc 
Roots  in  a  Soil  refin'd,  grbws  high  on  Earth, 

And  blooms  with  Llfe,  and  Joy,  and  Love. 

VIII. 

Such  was  Sophronlds  Soul.     Celcftial  Dew 
And  Angels  Food  wcre  her  Rcpaft  : 

Dcvotion  was  her  Work  ;  and  thence  fhe  drew 
Deliehts  which  StrAPgcr?  nev;r  tafte, 

IX. 


2,t5        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 


IX.' 

Not  the  gay  Splendors  ofa  flattering  Court 
Could  tempt  her  to  appear  and  fhine  : 

Her  folenin  Airs  forbid  the  World*s  Refort  ; 
But  I  was  bleft  and  ftie  was  mirie. 

X. 

Safeon  her  Welfare  all  my  Pleafures  hung, 

Her  Smiles  could  all  my  Pains  controul  ; 

Hcr  Soul  was  made  of  Softnefs,  and  her  Tongue 
Was  foft  and  gentle  as  her  Soul. 

XI. 

She  was  my  Guide,  my  Friend,  my  earthlv  AU  ; 

Love  grew  with  every  waning  Moon  : 
HaJ  Heav*n  a  Length  of  Years  delay*d  its  Call, 

$till  I  had  thought  it  calPd  too  foon. 

xn. 

But  Peace  my  Sorrows  !  nor  with  murmuring  Voice 
Dare  to  accufe  Heaven''s  high  Decree  : 

She  was  firft  ripe  for  everlafting  Joys  j 
Sophmi^  Ihe  waits  above  for  thee. 


LIV. 


/;/  Prose  andY  fB.ssL^       3,17 


LIV. 
^//    E  L  E  G  Y 

On  the  much  lamented  D  e  a  t  h  'jf 

MrS.     E   L  I  Z   A  B  E  T  H     B  U  R  \% 

Late  Wife  cf  the  Re^verend  Mr,  S  a  ri  u  e  l  B  u  r  y 
of  Briftol,  annexed  to  fome  Memoin  of  hsr-Life  di-^u^f. 
itp  by  him  ;  but  colle5led  out  ofher  oivn  Papen, 

C  HE  muft  afcend  ;  her  Treafure  lles  on  high, 

And  there  her  Heart  is.     Bear  her  thro'  the  SJcy 
On  Wings  of  Harmony,  ye  Sons  of  Light, 
And  with  furrounding  Shields  prote<Sl  Jier  Flight. 
Tcach  her  the  wond'rous  Songs  your  feh'es  compofe 
For  yon  bright  World  ;  flie'Jl  learn  'em  as  flic  goes  ; 
The  Senfe  was  knovm  before  :  Thofe  facrcd  Theme^. 
The  God,  tlie  Saviour,  and  theflowing  Streams 
That  ting'd  the  curfed  Tree  with  Blood  divine, 
Purchas'd  a  Hea\'en,  and  wafh'd  a  World  from  Sin  ; 
TheBeams,  the  Blifs,  the  Vifion  of  that  Face 
Where  the  whole  Godhead  fliines  in  mildefi:  Grace  ; 
Thefe  are  the  Notes  for  which  yourHarps  are  ftrung, 
Thefe  were  the  Joy  and  Labour  of  her  Tongue 
In  our  dark  Regions.     Thcfe  exalted  Strains 
Brought  Paradlfe  to  Earth,  and  footh'd  hcr  Pains. 

L  Smh 


2, 1 8  Mifcellaneotis  Tfooughts, 

:Souh  made  ofpious  Harmony  and  Love, 
Can  be  no  Siran^ers  to  their  Work  ahove, 

BuT  muft  we  lofe  her  hence  ?  The  MufeinPam 
Regrets  her  Fhght,  and  calls  the  Saint  again. 
Stay,  gentle  Spirit,  ftay.     Can  Nature  find 
No  Charms  to  hold  the  once-unfetter'd  Mind  ? 
Muft  all  thofe  Virtues,  all  thofe  Graces  foar 
Far  from  our  Sight,  and  blefs  the  Earth  no  more  ? 
Muft  the  fair  Saint  to  Worlds  immortal  cUmb., 
For  ever  loft  to  all  thc  Sons  of  Time  ? 
O,  no  ;  flie  is  not  loft.     Behold  her  here, 
'How  juft  the  Form  !  how  foft  the  Lines  appear  ! 
The  Features  of  her  Soul,  without  Difguife, 
Drawn  by  her  own  blefs'd  Pen  :  A  fweet  Surprife 
To  mourning  Friends.     The  Partner  of  her  Cares 
Seiz'd  the  fair  Piece,  and  wafli'd  it  o're  with  Tears, 
Drefs'd  it  in  Flowers,  then  hung  it  on  her  Urn, 
A  Pattern  for  her  .3ex  in  A^es  yet  unborn. 

Daughters  of  fe,  come,  trace  thefe  heavenly  Lines, 
'Feel  with  what  Power  the  bright  Example  fhines; 
■She  was  what  you  fhould  be.     Young  Virgins,  come, 
Drop  a  kind  Tear,  and  drefs  you  at  her  Tomb  : 
Gay  Silks  and  Diamonds  are  a  vulgar  Road  ; 
Her  radiant  Virtues  ftiould  create  the  Mode. 
Matrons,  attend  her  Hearfe  with  Thoughts  refin'd, 
^Gaze  and  tranfcribe  the  Beauties  of  her  Mind, 
And  let  her  Hvf  in  you.     The  Meek,  the  Great, 
'X;l\e  Chafte,  jet  Freci  the  Chearful,  yet  Sedate, 

Swlft 


in  pRosE  and  Verse.       ^K) 

Swift  to  Forgivenefs,  but  to  Anger  flow, 

And  rich  in  folid  Learning  more  than  Show, 

With  Charity  and  Zeal,  that  rarely  join, 

And  all  the  human  Graces  and  divine, 

Reign'd  in  her  Breaft,  and  held  a  pleafmg  Strife 

Thro'  every  fhifting  Scene  of  various  Life,  C 

The  Maid,  the  Bride,  the  Widow,  and  the  Wife.   y 

N  o  R  need  a  manly  Spirit  Mufh  to  gain 
Exalted  Thouglits  from  her  fuperior  Vein. 
Attend  her  Hints,  ye  Sages  of  the  Schools, 
And  by  her  nobler  Praclice  frame  your  Rulcs, 
Let  her  inform  you  to  addrefs  the  Ear 
With  conquering  Suafion,  or  Reproof  fe\'cre, 
And  flill  without  OfFence.     Thrice  happy  Soul, 
That  could  our  PafHons,  and  her  own  controuli 
Could  wield  and  govern  that  unruly  Train, 
Senfe,  Fancy,  Pleafure,  Fear,  Grief,  Hope  and  Pain, 
And  live  fublimely  good  !  Behold  her  move 
Thro'Earth'srude  Scenes,yet  point  herThoughts  above-» 
Seraphs  on  Earth  pant  for  their  Native  Skies^ 
And  Nature  feels  it  painful  not  to  rife, 

Y  E  venerable  Tribes  of  holy  Men, 
Read  the  Devotions  of  her  Heart  and  Pen, 
And  learn  to  pray  and  die.     Buriffa  knew 
To  make  Life  happy,  and  refign  it  too., 
The  Soul  that  oft  had  walk'd  th'  Ethereal  Road, 
Pisasi'd  with  her  Summons,  took  her  farevvel  Flight 

[to  God. 

Ij    Z  B  U  T 


2,xo        MtfceUaneous  Thoughts, 

B  u  T  ne'er  fhall  Words,  or  Lines,  or  Colours  palnt 
Th'  immortal  Paffions  of  th' expiring  Saint. 
What  Beams  of  Joy  (Angelick  Airs)  arife 
0're  her  pale  Cheeks,  and  fparkle  thro'  her  Eyes 
In  that  dark  Hour  !  how  all  fercne  flie  hy 
Beneath  the  Openings  of  celeftial  Day ! 
Her  Soul  retires  from  Senfe,  refines  from  Sin, 
While  the  defcending  Glory  wrought  within  j 
Then  in  a  facred  Calm  refign'd  her  Breath, 
And  as  her  Eyelidsclos'd,  fhe  fmird  in  Death. 

O  M  A  Y  fome  pious  Friend  who  weeping  ftands 
Near  my  laft  Piliow  with  uplifted  Hands, 
Or  wipes  the  mortal  Dew  from  off  my  Face, 
Witnefs  fuchTriumphs  in  my  Soul  ;  and  trace 
The  Dawn  of  Glory  in  my  dying  Mien, 
While  on  my  lifelefs  Lips  fuch  heavenly  Smiles  are 

[fcen! 

:Sfpt£mber  29, 
1720. 


LV, 


in  P  R  0  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  E.       ixi 


LV. 

An  Elegiac  O  D  E  at  the  D  e  A  t  h  of 

Sir  Thomas  AbneY,  Knight  and 
Alderman  (9/London,  Feb.  6.  171'», 
in  the  8  3  <^  Tear  of  his  Age. 

AflixM  to  fome  M  e  m  o  i  R  s  of  his  L  i  F  Ej  * 
And  Infcribed  to 

m  L  A  D  V   A  n  N  E  T, 

Ma  d  a  m, 

ITO  UR  Grifis  great  andjujl,  It  is  mt  in  the  Poiver 
of  Verfe  to  charm  it :  Tour  Cmforts  muji  arife  from 
a  diviner  Spring.  My  Refdente  in  ycur  Family  hath  made 
me  a  Witnefi  to  the Lujlre  ofSirTuoMAs  A b n  e  y^s 
Chara^er,  and  to  the  Years  of  your  Felicity  ;  and  I  beoi' 
a  fenfible  Share  in  the  S<!r,oivs  that  are  fjed  on  his  Tomb. 

The  'Natlon  mcurns  a  good  Man  lojl  from  the  midjl 
of  us^  a  publick  Bkffing  vanijh'd  fofn  the  Earth.  The 
City  mcurns  the  Lofs  of  a  mofi  excelknt  Magijlratey 
a  fure  Friend  to-  Virtue^  and  a  Guardian  to  the 
puhlick  Pcace.     The  Church  of  Chrijl  mourns  a  beau- 

L  3  tiful 


ai2/        Mifiellaneotis  ThoughtSy 

^iful  Pillar  taken  ftom  the  Support   and  Ornament  of 
the  TempJe.     All  thefe  are  puhlick  Sorrows  ;    but  your 
Lofs,  ]\I  A  D  A  M,  carries  a  Pain  in  it,  that  muf  be  un~ 
known  to  all  but  fach  as  knew  the  domeflick  Virtius  of  the 
Dueafed^ 

Th  o&E  ivho  have  the  Honour  of  your  Lady/hifs  Ac^ 
quaintance  can  iell  ivhenceyou  derive  your  daily  ConfolationSy 
iwen  from  ihat  World  ivhere  your  departed  Relative  drinks 
them  at  ihe  Fcuntain  Head.  O  may  thfe  Streams  defcend 
in  fuU  Meafure  hourly^  and  refrejh  yourfclf  and  your 
Mourning  Houfe  ! 

Bvrifa  Verfe  canmt  give  Comfort  to  the  Livlng^. 

yel  it  may  do  Honour  to  the  Dead  :  and-  'tis  f^^his  Rea- 

lon  that  your  Ladyjhip  defires  aVerfeto  attend  thefe  few  Me- 

morials  of  Sir  T  h  o  m  as  Ab  n  e  y'j  Life.     HisMo- 

defy  hath  concealeda  thoufand  Thingsfrom  the  World  which 

might  have  fiood  as  Witnefjes  of  his  Piety  and  Goodnefs  . 

iut  he  thought  it  fufficient  that  his  Record  was  on  High. 

Tet  your  unfeigned  Love  follows  him  to  the  Grave^  and 

ivould  do  every  thing  that  might  adorn  his  Name  and  Me- 

mory.     Since  you  have  calTd  me  to  this  Piece  of  Service^ 

the  Obligations  that  your  Ladyjhip  hath  laid  upon  me  are 

firong  enough    to  fummon   up  my  youthful  Powers   and 

Talents^   even    when   I  look  upon  them  as  buried  and 

almofi  forgotten* 


Bff. 


///Pkose  au^  V ekse.       223 

Besides,  Madam,  there  are  Jome  Ocair- 
rences  that  can  of  the?nfekies  rouze  the  Mufe  from 
the  deepeji  Skep.  Poefy  is  not  always  under  the  Com- 
mand  of  the  Will.  As  there  have  been  Occafwns  here- 
tofore  luhen  I  have  zviJJ^ed  to  writey  but  the  Imagi- 
nation  has  refufed  to  attend  the  Wif);  fo  thcre  are 
Seafcns  when  Verfe  comes  almojl  without  a  CaJl^  and 
ihe  Will  might  refji  in  vain.  A  feiu  fuch  Seafons 
havc  I  met  luith  in  the  Courfe  of  my  Life^  and  fome 
of  them  have  found  me  even  in  the  Chambers  cf  Dcath,  - 
When  1  have  fpent  Days  in  the  midji  of  Mourniug.,- 
and  the  ivhole  Soul  hath  been  tuned  to  Sorroiu,  the 
Harp  hath  foiindcd  of  its  own  accord,  and  aivakcfi^d 
all  the  doleful  Strings.  Such  was  the  Hour  when  yoiir 
Dear  and  Honoured  Brother  Mr.  T  h  o  ]vf  a  s  G  u  n-  ' 
s  T  o  N  departed  this  Life ;  and  fuch  is  the  prefent 
Providence.  TJncommon  Worth  forfaking  our  World, 
Jirikes  all  the  Powers  of  Nature  luith  Sentiments  of 
Honeur  and  Grief  and  the  Hand  and  the  Heart  confent 
to  raife  a  Monument  of  Love  and  Sorrow. 

A  c  c  E  P  T  ihen,  Honoured  M  a  dam,  theje 
Lines  of  Elegy,  as  a  fmcere  Pledge  of  the  greatcfl 
Veneration  which  my  Heart  pays  to  the  Memory  of 
^/V  T  H  o  M  A  s  A  B  N  E  Y.  How  far  foever  the 
Verfe  may  fall  below  the  Theme^  yet  now  it  mufl 
always  live^  fince  it  is  join'd  to  tJ)efe^  Memoirs,  ajid 
atiacVd  to  a  Charadler  that  cannot  die.  And  luhile 
L  4  Jucceeding- 


2 14        Mifcellaneou  s  Thoughts^ 

fucceeding  Jges  /})aU  read  the  Hcnours  dus  to  the  De- 
ceafed^  let  them  know  afo  the  Gratitude  I  pay  to  your 
Ladyfhip,  for  the  fgnal  Benefits  of  many  Years^  con- 
fQ'd  on 

Your  L  A  D  Y  s  H  1 1>  V 

Mofl  obliged,  and 

Obedient  Sefvant^ 


I-    W  A  T  T  9. 


A  T 


m.  P  R  o  s  £  and  V  e  r  s  e.       215:  • 


/;/ 


A  T    T  H  E 
D  E  A  T  H  of  that  Excellent  Man 

Sir   TH  OMAS   ABNE  Y. 

A    SoLILOQUY,     or   MOURNING    MEDITATIO>r. 

^is  d&jsderiojit  pudor  aut  modm 
Tam  chari  Capitis  ?  pracipe  lugiibres 

Cantus,  Melpomene. 
Ergone  A  b  n  e  i  u  m  perpetuus  fopor 
Urget  f  Cui  Pudor  ^  Juftiticeforor 

Incorrupta  Fides^  nudaque  Veriras^ 

^ando  uUum  invenient  parcm  ?  H  o  R , 

P  A   R   T      I. 

Hii  Private  Life, 

I. 

21B  NE  Y  expires.     A  general  Groan 
^^  Sounds  through  the  Houfe.     Hovv  muft  a  Friend  • 
behave 
Where  Death  and  Grief  have  rais'd  their  Thronc, 
And  the  fad  Chambers  feem  th'  Apartments  of  thc 
Grave .? 

L  ^  II.  Shall 


2,i5        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 


II. 

Sliall  I  appear  amongft  the  chief 
0f  Mourners,  wailing  o'er  the  dear  Deceas'd.? 

Or  muft  I  feek  to  charm  their  Grief, 
And  in,Diftrefs  of  Sowl  to  comfort  the  Diftrefs'd  ?. 

III. 

I  mourn  by  Turns,  and  comfort  too  : 
Hs  that  can  feel,  can  eafe  another's  Smart, 

The  Drop»  of  fympathetic  Woe 
Gonvey  the  heaveniy  Cordial  warmer  to  the  Heart, 

IV. 

We  mourn  a  thoufand  Joys  deceas'd, 
"Wie  name  the  Husband  with  a  mournful  Tongue  5 

He,  when  the  Powers  of  Life  decreas'd, 
Feitthe  diviner  Flames-of  Love  for  ever  young.  . 

v; 

Thrice  happy  Man  !  Thrice  happy  Pair  ! 
If  Love  could  bid  approaching  Death  remove,  , 

The  painful  Name  of  JFidniu  here 
Had  ever  been  unknown.     But  Death  is  deaf  to  Lwe, 

VI. 

*  A  L  B  I N  A  mourns,  (he  mourns  alone,,^ 
Her  Grief  unrival'd  in  a  Houfe  of  Tearsj 

*■  The  Laiy  A  b  n  s  v, 

The 


\ 


in  Prose  and  Verse.       2x7 

The  Partner  of  her  Soul  is  gorie, 
Whodoubled  all  her  Joys,  and  half  fuftain'd  herCares, 

VII. 

See  the  fair  Ofspring  of  the  Dead, 
With  their  young  Griefs  Mim  they  inclofe, 

Befide  the  Fathcr's  dying  Bed  j 
And  as  her  Woes  increafe,  theirLove  and  Duty  growSo 

Vlfl. 

Tiie  Children  feel  the  Mother's  Pain, 
Down  the  pale  Cheeks  the  trickling  Sorrows  roll ;  • 

Tiie  Mother  {t^  and  weeps  again, 
With  all  the  tender  Paffions  ftruggling  in  her  Soul,"  • 

IX. 

The  tender  Paffions  reign  and  fpread 
Thro'  the  whole  Houfe,  and  to  the  Courts  defcend  % 

We  mourn  the  beft  oi  Brothers  dead  : 
We  mourn  the  kindeft  Majier^  and  the  firmeft  Frietid, 

X. 

We  mourn  ;  but  not  as  Wretches  do, 
Where  vicious  Lives  all  Hope  in  Death  deftroy  : 

A  falling  Tear  is  Nature's  due  ; 
But  Hope  climbs  high,  and  borders  on  Celeftial  Jdy," 


XI. 


2i8        Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts, 


XT. 

There  fits  the  late  departed  Saint  ;  * 
There  dwells  the  Hmband^  Father,  Brother,  Friend  : 

Then  let  us  ceafe  the  fore  Complaint, 
Or  mingled  with  our  Groans  let  Notes  of  Praife  afcend. 

xir. 

Great  God,  toThee  we  raife  our  Song, 
Thine  were  the  Graces  that  inrich'd  his  Mind  j 

We  blefs  Thce,  that  he  flione  fo  long, 
And  left  fo  fair  a  Track  of  pious  Life  behind. 

*  yuftum^  tenacein  propofiti  virttm,  &c. 

Hac  arte  —— — -  Enixus  arces  attigit  igneas.      H  0  R  • 


P  A  R  T    II. 
FTis  Public  Character  and  D  e  a  t  y , 


B 


I. 

U  T  can  domeftic  Sorrow  (hew 
A  Nation's  Lofs  ?  Can  private  Tears  fuiEce 
To  mourn  the  Saint  and  Ruler  too, 
Great  Names,  fo  rarely  join'd  below  the  blifsful  Skies  ? 


II. 

Could  A  B  N  E  Y  in  our  World  be  born, 
Could  A  B  N  E  Y  live,   and  not  Britannia  fmile  ? 


Or  die,  and  not  Bntannia  mourn,  * 
When  fuch  ethereal  Worth  left  our  degenerate  Ifle  ? 

IIT. 

'Tvvas  heavenly  Wifdom,  Zeal  divine,    ' 
Taught  him  the  Balance  and  the  Sword  to  hold  : 

His  Looks  with  facred  Juftice  fhine 
Beyond  the  fcarlet  Honours,  or  the  wreathen  Gold, 

IV. 

Truth,  Freedom,  Courage,  Prudence  flood 
Attending,  when  he  fill'd  the  folemn  Chair  : 

He  knew  no  Friendfhips,  Birth,  nor  Blood,         , 
Nor  Wealth,  nor  gay  Attire,  when  Criminals  were 

[there  f , 

V, 

He  fign^d  their  Doom  with  fteady  Hand  j 
Yet  Drops  of  Pity  from  his  Eye-lids  roll : 

*  Qwxi^Vi  ille  bonis  fiebilisoccidit.     Hor, 

+  — »  EJi  animus  tibi 
Rerumque  prudens,    ^  fecundis 

TemporibuSy    dubiifque  reSlus  j 
Viniex  avara  fraudis,    iS  abfiineni' 
Ducentis  ad  fe  cun6la  pecunice. 

—       Bonus  atque  fidus 
yudex  honeftum  pratulit  utili,   ^ 
Jlejecit  alto  dona  nocentium 

Vuhit Hor. 


He 


2,3  o  •       Mifcellaneous  Thoughts,  • 

*  He  punifh'd  to  reform  the  Land, 
"VVith  Terror  on  his  Brow,  and  Mercy  iii  his  Soul» 

VI. 

His  Tongue  was  much  unskillM  to  chide  j 
Soft  were  his  Lips,  and  all  his  Language  fweet : 

His  Soul  difdain'd  the  Airs  of  Pride, 
YefLove^nd  Reverencc  greet  him  thro'  the  crouded 

[Street^ 

vn. 

Godlike  he  liv'd  and  acfted  here, 
Moving  unfeen,  and  flill  fublimely  Great ; 

Yet  when  his  Country  claim'd  his  Care, 
Dfefcending  he  appear'd,  and  bore  the  Pomp  of  State, 

viir. 

He  more  than  once  oblig'd  the  Throne, 
And  fav'd  the  Nation  ;  yet  he  fhun'd  the  Fame,  - 

Carelefs  to  make  his  Merit  known. 
The  Chrijiian  hath  enough  that  Heaven  recordshig 

[Name, 

IX. 

His  humble  Soul  convers'd  on  high  ; 
Heaven  was  his  Hope,  his  Reft,  his  native  Home : 

*  ^i  quarit  "Pater  urbium 

Subfcribi  fi^tuis,  ivdotnitam  audeat^ 
Refrevare  Ucentiam, 
■  Cadet, .  i^  rabiefii  tollere  civium  ^mm^  Hor,  ■ 

His 


/«•Ptiose  and  VERSEi       231 

His  Treafures  lay  above  the  Sky  ; 
Much  be  pofleil  on  Earth,  but  raore  in  Worlds  to 

[come. 

X.. 

With  filent  Steps  he  trac'd  the  Way 
To  the  fair  Courts  of  Light,  his  wi{h'd  Abode  ; 

Nor  would  he  ask  a  Moment's  Stay, 
Nor-  make  the  Convoy  wait,  that  caird  his  Soul  to 

[God. 

XI. 

See  the  good  Man  with  Head  reclin*d, 
And  peaceful  Heart,  refign  his  precious  Breath  ; 

No  guilty  Thoughts  opprefs  his  Mind  ; 
Calm  and  ferene  his  Life,.  .ferene  and  calm  his  Death, 

XIL 

Laden  wlth  Honours  and  wlth  Years-,: 
His.  vigorous  Virtue  fhot  a  youthful  Ray  ; 

And  while  he  ends  his  Race,  appears 
Bright  as  the  Setting-Sun  of  a  long  cloudlefs  Day, 

XIIL 

Spent  with  the  Toil  of  bufy  Hours, 
Nature  retir'd,  and  Life  funk  down  to  fleep  : 

Come,  drefs  the  Bed  with  fadelefs  Flowers, 
Come,  Angeh,  round  his  Tomb  immortal  Vigils  keep» 

XIV. 
The  Heart  of  every  Briton  rears 
A  Monument  to  A  b  n  E  y's  fpotkfs  Fame  : 

Tiie 


23  2.        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

The  PencII  faints,  the  Mufe  defpairs ; 
His  Country'sGnef  antlLove  muft  eternize  his  Name. 

Sic  cecmit  mcerens, 
•     Ittter  mcerores  domejiicos, 
Et  patria^  fua  lu^us 

I.  w. 


LVI. 

Entrance  n^on  the  World. 

/^VRINO  was  a  young  Man  brought  iip  to  a  re- 
^  putable  Trade ;  the  Term  of  his  Apprenticcfhip 
was  almoft  expired,  and  he  was  contriving  how  he 
might  venture  into  the  World  with  Safety,  and  pur- 
fue  Bufmefs  with  Innocence  and  Succefs,  Among  his 
near  Kindred,  Serenus  was  one,  a  Gentleraan  of  con- 
fiderable  Chara^ter  in  the  facred  Profeftion  ;  and  after 
he  had  confulted  with  his  Father,  who  was'  a  Mer- 
chant  of  great  Efteem  and  Experience,  he  alfo 
thought  fit  to  feeka  Word  of  Advice  from  the  Divine, 
Sereniis  had  fuch  a  Refpe6t  for  his  young  Kinfman, 
that  he  fet  his  Thoughts  at  Work  on  this  Subje<^,  and 
witli   forae    tender   Expreflions,    vrhich    melted  the 

Youth 


m  pROSE  ^//^Verse.       133 

Youth  into  Tears,  he  put  into  his  Hand  a  Paper  of 
his  beft  Coiinfels.  Curino  entered  upon  Bufiners,  pur- 
fued  his  Employment  with  uncommon  Advantagc, 
and  under  the  Blefling  ot  Heaven  advanced  him- 
felf  to  a  confiderable  Eftatc  ;  he  lived  with  Honour  in 
the  VVorld,  and  gave  a  Luftre  to  the  Religion  which 
he  profefsM  ;  and  after  a  long  Life  of  Piety  and  Ufe- 
fulnefs,  he  died  with  a  facred  Compofure  of  Soul,  un- 
der  the  Influences  of  the  Chriftian  Hope.  Some  of  his 
Neighbours  wondered  at  his  Felicity  in  this  World, 
join'd  with  fo  much  Lmocence,  and  fuch  fevere  Vir- 
tue.  But  after  his  Death  this  Paper  was  found  in  his 
Glofet,  which  was  drawn  up  by  his  Kinfman  in  Holy 
Orders,  and  was  fuppofed  to  have  a  large  Share  in 
procuring  his  Happinefs. 


Advices  fo  a  YouNG  Man, 

LTT^INSMAN,  I  prefume  you  defirc  to  be  hap- 
py  here,  and  hereafter  ;  you  know  there  are 
a  Thoufand  DiflicuJties  which  attend  this  Purfuit  j 
fome  of  them  perhaps  you  forefee,  but  there  are  Mul- 
titudes  which  you  could  never  think  of.  Never  truft 
therefore  to  your  oivn  UTiderJJanding  in  the  Things  of 
this  World,  where  you  can  have  the  Advice  of  a 
a  ivife  andfaithful  Fricnd  ;  nor  dare  venture  the  more 
important  Concerns  of  your  Soul  and  your  eternal  In- 
terefts  in  the  World  to  come  upon  the  mere  Light  of 
Natiire  and  the  Di^ates  of  your  own  Reafon,  fince  tlie 
Word  of  God    and  the  Advice   of  Heaven  lics  iii 

your 


234        Mifcellaneous  ThoughfSy 

your  Hands.  Vain  and  Thoughtlefs  indeed  are  thofe 
Children  of  Pride,  who  chufe  to  turn  Heathem  \n  the 
midft  ofGreai  Britam  ;  who  live  upon  the  mere  Reli- 
gion  of  Nature  and  their  own  Stock,  when  they  havc 
been  trained  up  among  all  the  fuperior  Advantages  of 
Chriftianity,  and  the  Blefiings  of  divine  Revelation 
and  Grace.. 

II.  W  H  A  T  s  o  E  V  E  R  your  Circumftances  may 
be  inthisWorld,  {lill  value  your5/Z'Z?as  your  beftTrea- 
fure  y  and  v»'hatfoever  be  your  Employment  here,  ftill 
look  upon  Religion  as  your  beft  Bufmefs.  Your  Bible 
contains  eternal  Life  in  it,  and  all  the  Riches  of  the 
upper  World  ;  and  ^ligion  is  the  only  way  to  become 
a  PoftefTor  of  them. 

III.  To  dire6l  your  Carrlage  towards  God^  con- 
verfe  particularly  with  the  Book  of  Pfalms  ;  David 
was  a  Man  of  fmcere  and  eminent  Devotion.  To 
behave  aright  among  Men^  acquaint  yourfelf  with  the 
whoIeBookof  Prw^r^; :  Solomon  was  a  Man  of  large 
Experience  and  Wifdom.  And  to  perfedl  your  Di- 
reftions  in  both  thefe,  read  the  GofpeJs  and  the  Epifiks  j 
you  will  find  the  beft  of  Rules  and  the  beft  of  Exam- 
ples  there,  and  thofe  more  immediately  fuited  to  the 
Chrifian  Life. 

IV.  As  a.Man,  maintain  ftri£l  Temperance  and 
5obriety,  by  a  wife  Government  of  your  Appetites 
and  Paffions  j  as  a  Neighbour,  influence  and  engage  all 

aroun^ 


in  Prose  and  Verse.       ilS 

around  you  to  be  your  Friends,  by  a  Temper  and 
Carriage  made  up  of  Prudence  and  Goodnefsj  and  let 
the  Poor  have  a  certain  Share  in  all  your  yearly  Pro- 
fits.  As  a  Trader,  keep  that  golden  Sentence  of  oar 
Saviour's  ever  before  you,  IVhatfoever  you  wGuld  that 
Menjhould  do  unto  youy  doyou  alfo  unto  them. 

V.  W  H  I L  E  you  make  the  Precepts  of  Scrlpturc 
thcconftant  Rule  of  your  Duty,  you  may  vfkh.  Cuu- 
rage  reft  upon  t]ie  Promifes  of  Scripture  as  the  Springs 
of  your  Encouragement.  All  divine  Afliftances  and 
divine  Recom.pences  are  contained  in  them.  The 
Spirit  of  Light  and  Grace  is  promifed  to  afiift  them 
that  ask  it.  Heaven  and  Glory  are  promifed  to  re- 
ward  the  Faithful  and  the  Obedient. 

VI.  I  N  every  Affair  of  Life,  begin  with  God.  Con- 
fult  him  in  every  Thing  that  concerns  you.  View 
him  as  the  Author  of  all  your  Bleflings  and  all  your 
Hopes,  as  your  beft  Friend  and  your  eternal  Portion. 
Meditate  on  him  in  this  View,  with  a  continual  Re- 
newal  of  your  Truft  in  him,  and  a  daily  Surrender  of 
yourfelf  to  him,  till  you  feel  that  you  love  him  moft 
entirely,  that  you  ferve  him  with  fincere  Delight,  and 
that  you  cannot  live  a  Day  without  God  in  the 
World. 

VIL  Y  o  u  know  yourfelf  to  be  a  Man^  an 
indigent  Creature  and  a  Sinner,  and  you  profefs  to  be 
&.Chri/?ian,  a  Difciple  of  the  blefled  yejits :  But  never 

thijik 


23<J        Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

think  you  know  Chnjl  nor  your  Self  as  you  ought,  tiJl 
you  find  a  dai]y  need  of  him  for  R  ighteoufnefs 
and  Strength,  for  Pardon  and  Sandtification  ;  and  let 
hrm  be  your  conf^ant  Introducer  to  the  great  God, 
tho'  he  fit  upon  a  Throne  of  Grace.  Remember  his 
own  Words,  John  xiv.  6.  No  Man  cmeth  to  the  Ej- 
ther  lut  by  me. 

VIII.  M  A  K  E  Praycr  a  Pleafure  and  not  a 
Task,  and  then  you  will  not  forget  nor  omit  it. 
If  ever  you  have  Uved  in  a  Praying  Family,  ne- 
ver  let  it  be  your  Fault  if  you  do  not  hve  in  one 
always.  Believe  that  Day,  that  Hour,  or  thofe  Mi_ 
'nutes   to    be   all  wafted   and  loft,  which  any  world- 

ly  Pretences  would  tempt  you  to  fave  out  of  the 
Pubiick  vVorfhip  of  the  Church,  the  certain  and  con- 
ftant  Duties  of  the  Clofet,  or  any  neceffary  Services 
for  God  and  Godlinefs.  Beware  left  a  Blaft  at- 
tend  it,  and  not  a  Bleffing.  If  God  had  not  re- 
ferved  one  Day  in  Seven  to  himfelf,  I  fear  Re- 
hgion  would  have  been  loft  out  of  the  World  ; 
and  every  Day  of  the  Week  is  expofed  to  a  Curfe, 
which  has  no  Morning  Religion. 

IX.  S  E  E  that  you  watch  and  labour,  as  well  as 
pray.  Diligence  and  Dependance  muft  be  united  in 
tiie  Praclice  of  every  Chriftian.  'Tis  the  fame 
wife  Man  acquaints  us,  that  ihe  Hand  cf  the  Di~ 
ligent   and    the  Blejfjig  of  the   Lord  join  together  to 

tnake 


i//  PROSE  and  Verse.       237^ 

ifmke  us   rkh,  Prov.  x.  4 — 22.  rich  in  the  Treafures 
of  Body  or   Mind,  of  Time  or  Eternity. 

'Tis  your  Duty  indeed  under  a  Senfe  of  your 
own  Weaknefs,  to  pray  daily  againft  Sin  ;  but  if 
you  would  eftectually  avoid  it,  you  muft  alfo  avoid 
Temptation,  and  every  dangerous  Opportunity.  Set 
a  double  Guard  vvherefoever  you  feel  or  fufpeft  an 
Enemy  at  Hand.  The  World  without,  and  the 
Heart  within,  have  fo  much  Flattery  and  Deceit 
in  them,  that  we  maft  kecp  a  fliarp  Eye  upon 
Jwth,  left  we  are  trapt  into  Mifchief  between  them. 

X.  HoNOUR,  Pro/it  and  Pleafiire  have  been 
fometimes  called  the  IVorWs  Trviiiy^  they  are  its 
three  chief  Idols ;  each  of  them  is  fuificient  to  draw 
a  Soul  off"  from  God,  and  ruin  it  for  ever.  Beware 
of  them  therefQre,  and  of  all  their  fubtle  Infinua- 
tions,  if  you   would  be   innocent  or  happy. 

R  E  M  E  M  B  E  R  "  that  the  Hononr  whlch  comes 
from  God,  the  Approbation  of  Heavcn,  and  of  your 
own  Confcience,  are  infinitely  more  valuable  than  all 
thc  Efteem  or  Applaufe  of  Men.  Dare  not  venture 
one  Step  out  of  the  Road  of  Heaven,  for  fear  of  be- 
ing  laughed  at  for  walking  ftridly  in  it.  'Tis  a  poor 
Religion  that  cannot  ftand  againft  a  Jeft, 

S  E  L  L  not  your  Hopes  of  heavenly  TreafureSy  nor 
any  tliing  that  belongs  to  your  eterfial  InUreJl^  for  any 

of 


^3^        Mijcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

of  the  Advantages  of  the  prefent  Life  :  IVhdt  Jhdl 
it  profit  a  Man  to  gam  the  whole  World,  and  loje 
his  joivn  Saul  P 

Remember  alfo  the  Words  of  the  wife  Man. 
Ile  that  loveth  Pleafiire,  fi)all  be  a  poor  Man  \  he  that 
indulges  himfelf  in  JVine  and  Oil^  that  is,  in  Drink- 
ing,  in  Feafling,  and  in  fenfual  Gratifications,  fi^all 
not  he  rich,  It  is  one  of  St.  Paurs  Characlers  of 
a  moft  degenerate  Age,  when  Men  become  Lovers  of 
Pleafure  more  than  Lcvers  of  God,  And  that  flcfio^.y 
Lufts  ivar  agalnfl  the  Soul,  is  St.  Peter's  Caveat  to  t!ie 
■Chrifiians  of  hisTime. 

XI.  Preserve  your  Co?fcience  always  foft  and 
fenfible.  If  but  one  Sin  force  its  Way  into  that 
tender  Part  of  the  Soul,  and  dwell  eafy  there,  the 
Road  is  pav'd  for  a  thoufand  Iniquities. 

A  N  D  take  heed  that  under  any  Scruple,  Doubt 
or  Temptation  whatfoever,  you  never  let  any  Rea- 
fonings  fatisfy  your  Confcience,  which  will  not  be  a 
fufficient  Anfwer  or  Apology  to  the  Great  Judge  at 
the  laft  Day. 

XII.  Keep  this  Thought  ever  m  your  Mind, 
'Tis  a  World  of  Vanity  and  Vexation  in  which  you 
Jive  ;  the  Flatteries  and  Promifes  of  it  are  vain  and 
deccitfijl  ;  prepare  therefore  to  meet  Difappointments. 
-Many  of  its  Occurrences  are  teizing  and  vexatious: 

In 


in  Prose  and  Verse.       0.39 

In  every  ruffling  Storm  without,  poflefs  your  .Spirit 
in  Patience,  and  let  all  be  calm  and  ferene  within. 
Clouds  and  Tempefts  are  only  found  in  the  lower 
Skies  ;  the  Heavens  above  are  ever  bright  and  clear. 
Let  your  Heart  and  Hope  dwell  much  in  thefe  ferene 
Regions,  live  as  a  Stranger  here  on  Earth,  but  as  a 
Citizen  of  Hcaven,  if  you  would  maintain  a  Soul  at 
eafe. 

XIII.  S  I  N  c  E  in  many  Things  we  ofFend  all, 
and  there  is  not  a  Day  pafles  which  is  perfedl- 
ly  free  from  Sin,  let  Repentance  tcwards  God^  and 
Faith  in  our  Lord  Jefm  Ch'ijl,  be  your  daily  Work. 
A  frequent  Renewal  of  thefe  Exercifes  which  make  a 
Chriftian  at  iirft,  will  be  a  conftant  Evidence  of  your 
fmcere  Chriftianity,  and  give  you  Peace  in  Life^  and 
Hope  in  Death. 

XIV.  E^VER  carry  about  witTi  you  fuch  a  Senfe  of  the 
Uncertainty  of  every  thiug  inthis  Life,  and  of  Life  it- 
Xclf,  as  to  put  nothing  ofF  till  To-morrow,  which  you 
can  conveniently  do  to  Day,  Dilatory  Perfons  are  fre- 
qucntly  expofed  lo  Surprize  and  Hurry  in  every  thing 
t^at  belongs  to  them  :  The  Time  is  come,  and 
they  are  unprepared.  Let  the  Concerns  of  your 
Soul  and  your  Shop,  your  Trade  and  your  Rchgion, 
]ie  always  in  fuch  Order,  as  far  as  poflible,  that 
Death  at  a  fiiort  Warning  may  be  no  occafion  of  a 
difquieting  Tumult  in  your  Spirit,  or  of  bitter  Repeu- 
ianc€  in  a  dying  Hour,     Farewcli 

Fhroni' 


^40        MifceUaneous  Thotights, 

Phronhnus,  a  confiderable  Eaft-land  Merchant,  hap- 
.pen'd  upon  a  Copy  of  thefe  Advices  about  the  Time 
when  he  permitted  his  Son  to  commence  a  Partner- 
fhip  with  him  in  his  Trade ;  he  tranfcribed  them 
with  his  own  Hand,  and  made  a  Prefent  of  them 
to  the  Youth,  together  with  the  Articles  of  Part- 
nerfhip.  Here  young  Man,  fciid  he,  is  a  Paper  more 
Worth  than  thefe  Articles.  Read  it  over  once  a 
a  Month,  till  'tis  wrought  in  your  very  Soul  and 
Temper.  Walk  by  thefe  Rules,  and  I  can  truft 
my  Eftate  in  your  Hands.  Copy  out  thefc  Coun- 
fels  in  your  Life,  and  you  will  make  me  and  your- 
felf  eafy  and  happy. 


LVII. 

S  o  u  L  s   in  Fetters, 

TT 7  H  A  T  a  fore  Unhappinefs  is  it  to  thc  Chrijlian 
^^  World,  that  Men  arc  confin'd  in  Partics  ! 
There  are  fome  noble  Souls  imprifon'd  from  their 
Infancy  within  the  Pales  of  a  particular  Clan,  or 
narrow  Tribe,  and  they  muft  never  dare  to  think  be- 
yond  thofe  Limits.  What  fliam.eful  Bars  are  laiJ  in 
the  Way  to  obftrucl  the  Progrefs  of  Knowledge,  and 
■  the  Growth  of  the   Intelle^ual  World  !    Generous 

Senti- 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       ^41 

Sentiments  are  ftifled  and  forbid  to  be  born,  lefl:  the 
Parent  of  them  who  iselongs  perhaps  to  one  S  /7, 
fhould  be  fufpe^ted  of  too  much  Intimacy  with  an- 
other  ;  and  a  thoufand  brave  and  free  Thoughts  are 
crufh'd  to  Death  in  the  very  Bud,  kft  they  fhould 
look  like  the  Offspring  of  a  foreign  Tribe^  when  they 
appear  in  open  Light.  What  a  wretched  Influcncc, 
Namcs^  and  Se^s,  and  Parties  have  upon  the  Com- 
monwcalth  of  Chriftianity  !  We  hardly  dare  believc 
ourfelves  when  we  have  found  out  a  Truth,  if  our 
Anceftors  did  not  believe  it  too, 

A  F  E  w  Days  ago  Akuthrus  told  me,  that  wiien 
he  was  a  Boy,  he  firmly  believcd  ths  Myjfery  of  the 
Mafs^  and  thought  the  Prieft  could  turn  Brcad  into 
Flefh  and  Blood,  for  all  his  Reiations  were  of  that 
Mind  ;  but  when  I  began  to  think  for  myfelf  a  little 
(faid  hc)  my  Faith  ftagger'd,  the  Falfhood  feemed 
too  big  for  my  Belief ;  and  yet  I  know  not  what 
ilrange  fecret  Attachment  to  the  Religion  of  mv  Fa- 
thers  forbid  me  to  deny  what  they  had  profefs'd'.  So 
I  ftiut  my  Eyes,  and  laid  all  my  rifmg  Doubts  to 
fleep  ;  I  ftretch'd  my  Faith  to  its  former  Size,  and 
fwallov.-ed  the  old  Dodlrine  agaln.  Without  think- 
ing  whether  it  were  poftible  I  caird  it  Divine,  for  I 
could  not  bear  the  Thoughts  of  beino-  a  Heretiik, 

Ckrict  would  gladly  have  heard  EuphorM  preach,  \i 
he  durft  have  ventured  the  Cenfure  of  his  Fricnda^ 
and  been  feen  in  a   Meeting-Houfe.    He  could  wil< 


2,42^       Mifcellaneous  Tlmights, 

Jingly  have  let  hls  Soul  loofe  from  all  Human  Forms 
and  Inventions,  if  he  had  not  lately  fubfcribed  the 
Twentleth  Article  of  the  Church  among  the  reft,  and 
declar'd  that  flie  has  Power  to  ordain  Rites  and  Ceremo- 
nies.  But  fmce  he  has  fubfcribed,  he  does  not  care 
to  indulge  his  Thoughts  in  fo  much  Freedom. 

Phikuchus  happened  to  lodge  a  Week  at  the  Houfe 
of  Sebajles,,  where  he  iieard  Mr.  JenJts's  Prayers  read 
.daily  in  the  Family  with  great  Devotion  j  he  pre- 
vaird  with  himfelf  to  join  in  the  Worfhip,  and  felt 
his  Soul  refrefh'd  by  it  ;  yet  his  own  Houfe  con- 
tinued  Prayerlefs  ftill  ;  for  tho'  he  loved  Religion 
at  his  Heart,  yet  he  could  not  exprefs  himfelf 
with  any  tolerable  Decency,  Propriety  or  Courage 
\\\  Family-Worfhip,  and  he  was  afhamed  to  let 
,his   Friends   know  that   he  made  ufe  of  P"orms. 

W  H  A  T  a  poor  foolifh  Thing  is  Man  !  Human 
Nature  in  all  Ages  is  too  much  Uke  itfelf ;  what  is  now 
pradifed  among  Chrijlians^  to  the  Reproach  and  Inju- 
ry  of  Rivcaled  Truth^  has  been  a  Bar  to  thc  ProfeiTion 
and  Lnprovement  of  Natural  Religicn^  in  thc  Days 
and  the  Nations  of  ancient  Heathnifm. 

Sccrates  is  famous  in  Hiftory  for  his  Belief  of  the 

■One  true  God,  in  oppofition   to  the  Pclytheifm  of  the 

World,  and  the  numerous  Idols  of  the  Prieft  and  the 

^cople :  But  he  is  reportcd  by  this  Means  to  have  ex- 

pofed  hlmfelf  to  the  Refentment  and  popular  Fury  of 

fome 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.        143 

fome  of  his  Countrymen,  fo  that  he  is  counted  a  fort 
oi  Martsr  for  that  Caufe.  Yet,  as  fome  report,  he 
was  fcarce  able  to  fupport  his  Courage  in  the  publick 
Profe{Tion  of  that  One  tnie  God  in  a  dying  Hour,  for 
'tis  faid  that  he  ordered  a  Cock  to  be  ofiered  as  a  Sa- 
crifice  to  Mfculapm  the  God  of  Phyfick.  I  confels 
'tis  fo  mean  and  fervile  a  Compliance,  that  I  can 
hardlv  believe  it  concerning  Socrates. 

B  u  T  if  the  Soul  of  the  noble  Gredan  was  bound 
in  thefe  Fctters  of  a  Popular  Religion,  which  for^ 
bid  his  bold  and  final  Profeffion  of  his  Diviner  Sen- 
timents  ;  'tis  not  Greecc  only,  but  Rome  alfo  has  pro- 
duced  t.xamples  of  the  fame  Weaknefs  among  fomc 
of  its  Heroes.  It  muft  be  acknowledged,  they  had 
fome  heavenly  Flights  of  Thought,  and  Coura<ye 
enough  to  let  their  Notions  juft  ftart  into  Light,  and 
give  broad  Hints  of  their  Faith  ;  but  they  were  for- 
ced  to  crarap  and  difcourage  tlie  Progrefs  and  the 
Growth  of  it,  for  fear  of  the  National  Idolatry  whic'? 
reign'd  in  their  Age.  They  had  not  Strength  of 
Soul  and  Bravery  enough  to  become  Martyrs  for  the 
Truth. 

Ciiero  was  a  great  Man,  but  he  was  afraid  to 
fpeak  what  he  knew  of  the  Unity  of  tlie  Eternal 
God,  the  Maker  of  All.  'Tis  hard,  fays  he,  t» 
find  out  him  luho  is  the  Parcnt  of  this  Univerfe  ;  anR 
whcn  you  havefound  him,  'tis  not  lawful  to  Jhew  him 
to  ths  vnJgar  World.  Illum  quafi  parentem  hujus 
M  z  univcr- 


2,44        Mtfcellaneous  Thoughfs, 

univerfitatis  invenire  diiEcile  :  &  cum  inveneris,  in- 
dicare  in  Vulgus  nefas.  Lib.  de  V^iiverf.  p.  2.  and  the 
iame  he  faith  again,  Lib.  2.  de  Nat.  Deor.  Let  not 
our  Men  of  Heatkenifm  then,  our  Briii/h  Infidel^, 
charge  all  this  FoUy  upon  Chriflians  alone,  fince.  their 
Pao-an  Predeceffors  were  guilty  of  it  as  well  as  we. 

O  w  H  E  R  E  fliall  that  City  fland,  whofe  In- 
habitants  Iball  traffick  in  intellcftual  Treafures,  and 
fet  forth  all  their  new  Improvements  and  Acqui- 
iitions  in  open  Day-light,  without  the  Danger  of 
Publick  Penalties  or  Reproach  ?  Where  fhall  that 
happy  Race  of  Men  be  born,  who  fhall  feek  Truth 
with  an  unbiafs'd  SouJ,  and  fliall  fpeak  it  freely  to 
Mankind,  without  the  fear  of  Parties,  or  the  Odium 
of  Singularity  ?  When  fhall  that  golden  Age  arife  in 
Great  Britain^  in  which  every  rich  Genius  fhall  pro- 
duce  his  brighteft  Sentimei>ts  to  the  Honour  of  God, 
and  to  the  general  Profit  of  Men,  and  yet  ftand  ex- 
empted  from  common  Slander  ?  When  fhall  the  fa- 
cred  Mines  of  Scripture  be  digg'd  yet  deeper  than 
ever  and  the  hidden  Riches  thereof  be  brought  out  of 
their  long  Obfcurity,  to  adorn  the  Dodlrine  of  God 
our  Saviour  ?  O  that  thefe  dark  and  ftormy  Days  of 
Party  and  Prejudice  vt^ere  roird  away,  that  Men  would 
once  give  Leave  to  their  Fellow  Chriftians  to  fpell  out 
and  read  fome  ancient  and  unknown  Glories  of  the 
PerfonofChrift,  which  are  contained  in  Scripturc, 
and  to  unfold  fome  hidden  Wonders  of  his  Gofpel  J 
The  wifcft  of  Men  know  yet  but  in  part,  aad  'tis  al- 

ways 


/«  Prose  ^;/^  Vep-SE,        ^^^ 

nvays  poflible  to  grow  wlfer,  at  leaft  on  this  fide  Hea-* 
ven  ;  but  publick  Prejudice  is  a  Friend  to  Darknefs, 
nor  could  Ignorance  and  Error,  v.irhout  this  Shield 
have  defendcd  their  Thrones  fo  long  among  Creaturee- 
of  Reafon,  under  the  Light  of  Divine  Sun-beams, 


LVIII. 

To  L  u  c  I  u  s,  ou  tbe "Death  (?/ S  e  k  e ^'  a. 

Dcar  Slfy 
C  O  M  E  of  tlicfc  Vcrfcs  Rttewpt?;d  to  footh  3'onr 
Sorrows  in  a  melancholy  and  uillreftlng  Huur : 
They  were  all  finifh'd  near  the  fame  Time,  and 
united  in  this  Form,  tho'  they  have  thus  long  lain 
in  Silence,  nor  ventur'd  to  prefent  themfelves  to  you. 
I  am  almoft  in  Pain  already,  left  they  fhould  a- 
wake  your  Heart-ake  by  a  RecoIIedlion  of  fome 
dear  mournful  Images,  and  vanifti'd  Scenes  of  Grief^ 
Let  thefe  Lines  rather  call  your  Vicws  upward  to 
tha  better  Manfions  of  your  abfent  Kindred,  and  a- 
waken  you  to  aim  eyery  Step  of  Life  toward  thofe 
Regions  of  Holinefs  and  Joy.  Adieu,  and  be  happy, 
I  am, 

S  I  R, 

Toursy  &c, 

M   3  Death 


z^6       Mtfcellmeous  Thoughts^ 

►E  A  T  H     and    H  E  A  V  E  N» 

In  Five  LyR.ic  Odes. 

O  D  E    I. 

Tht  Sp;rit's  Farewel  to  the  Bcdy  afier  bng  Skhicfs. 

t 

TT  O  W  am   I   held   a  Vn(omt   now, 

^''ar  frDiii  my  God  !  This  mortal  Q\mi\ 
Binds  m^  w  Serrew  :  All  bdow 
h  feQr{'iiv*d  £a&  ©r  tirefoine  Vm, 

n. 

When  {hall  that  woRdVous  Hour  appear, 
Which  frees  me  from  this  dark  Abode, 

To  live  at  large  in  Regions,  where 

Nor  Cloud  nor  Vail  Ihall  hide  my  God  V 

III. 

Farewel  this  F]efh,  thefe  Ears,  thefe  Eye?, 
Thefe  Snares  and  Fetteis  of  the  Mind  j 

Mv  God,  nor  let  this  Frame  arife 
Ijll  everjrDufl;  be  wcU  refin'.d,. 


LV. 


in  P  R  0  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.      147 
IV. 

JefuSf  who  mak'ft  our  Natures  whole, 

Mould  me  a  Body  lilce  thy  own  : 
Then  fhall  it  better  l'er\e  my  Soul 

Iji  Works  of  Piaiie  and  Worlds  unknown* 

O  D  E    II. 

The  Departing  Moment.^  or,  Abfentfrom  the  Bodf» 

I, 

A  B  S  E  N  T  from  Flefh  !  O  blirsfl.1  Thought  f 
^^      Wliafe  Uhkhown  Joys  this  Momenf  brings ! 
f'fet4  frajfl  the  Miffehlefs  Sln  hHth  wfouiht, 

Ffom  P^im  mi  Foar?,  md  ftll  thdr  Springg ! 

IT. 

Ahfentfrm  Flefj  /  Illuftrious  Day ! 

Surprifing  Scene  !  triumphant  Strokc, 
That  rends  the  Prifon  of  my  Clay, 

And  I  can  feel  my  Fetters  broke  ! 

III/ 

Abfcntfrom  Flejh  /  Then  rife  my  Soul, 

Where  Feet  or  Wings  could  never  climb, 

Bcyond  the  Heavens  where  Planets  roU, 

Mcafurihg  the  Cares  and  Joys  of  Timey 


M  4  I\'. 


2.48'      Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 
IV. 

I  go  where  God  and  GJory  fhine  : 
His  Prefence  makes  eternal  Day. 

My  All  that's  mortal  I  reiign, 

For  Vrul  waits  and  points  my  Way, 


O  D  E    III. 

Entrame  inio  Paradifey  or,  Prefent  with  the  Lord^ 

I. 

A  N  D  is  thls  Heaven  i  And  am  I  there  f 

Hov*'  ihm  thc  R.oad !  Uqw  fwift  fl>§  FligKt !- 
i  am  ail  Liie,  aU  Eye,  all  Earj 

Jefm  is  here,  —  my  Soul's  Dehght. 

II. 

Is  this  the  heavenly  Friend  who  hung 
In  Blood  and  Anguifh  on  the  Tree, 

Whom  P(2w/proclaim'd,  whom  David  fung, 
Who  dy'd  for  them,  who  dy'd  for  me? 

III. 

How  fair,  thou  OfFspring  of  my  God  ! 

Thqu  firft-born  Image  of  his  Face  I 
Thy  Death  procur'd  this  bleft  Abode, 

Thy  vital  Beams  adorn  the  Place. 


IV. 


m  P  R  0  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       ^49' 


IV. 

Lo,  he  prefents  me  at  the  Throne 

All  fpotlefs  ;  there  the  Godhead  reigns 

Subllme  and  peaceful  thro'  the  Son  : 

Awake,  my  Voice,  in  heavenly  Strains ! 


O  D  E    IV. 

The  Sight  cf  GoD  in  Heaven, 


/^ Reator-God,  Eternal  Light, 

Fountain  of  Good,  tremendous  Power, 
Ocean  of  Wonders,  blifsful  Sight  ! 

Beauty  and  Love  unknown  before  ! 

IT. 
Thy  Grace,  thy  Nature,  all  unknown 

In  yon  dark  Region  whence  I  came  ! 
Where  languid  Glimpfes  from  thy  Throne 

And  fceble  Whifpers  teach  thy  Name, 

HL 

Fm  in  a  World  where  all  Is  new  ; 

My  Self,  my  God  ;  O  bleft  Amaze ! 
Not  my  beft  Plopes  or  Wiflies  knew 

To  fprm  a  Shadow  of  this  Grace. 

M  5  IV 


a:5'o       Mifcellmeous  Thoiights, 

IV. 

Eixt  on  my  God,  ray  Heart,  adore  : 

My  reftlefs  Thoughts  foxbear  to  rove  : 

Yc  meaner  Paffions,  ftir  no  more  j 

Eut  all  my  Powers  be  joy  and  Love. 

G  D  E    V. 

ji-Fimerd  Ode  at  the  Interrmcnt  of  the  Bcdy^  fuppofed 
to  hefung  by  the  Moiirnen, 

L 

T  T  N  V  A I L  thy  Bofom,  faithful  Tomb ; 

Take  this  nev^r  Treafure  to  thy  Truft, 
A^d  g.ive  thefe  facred  Reliques  Room 
Xa  feek  a.Slumber  in  the.Duft, 

IL 

?Jor  Painr,  norGrief,  nor  anxious  Fear 

Invade  thy  Bounds.     No  mortal  Woes 

Cl^Vi  reach  the  iovely  Sleeper  here, 

And  Angels  -watch  her  foft  Repofe. 

III. 

Sb.  fefm  flept:  God's_dying  Son 

Paft  thruugh  the.Grave,  and  bleft  the  Bed. 
Reft  here,  fair  Saint ;  till  from  hls  Throne 

The  Mornjng  break  and  pierce  the  Shade. 


IV, 


itt  P R  0  s E  and  V e r s  e.      i$v 


IV. 

Break  from  his  Throne,  illuftrious  Morn ; 

Attend,  O  Earth,  his  fovereign  Word  ; 
Reftore  thy  Truft,  a  glorious  Form  ; 

She  muft  afcend  to  meet  her  Lor  J! 


LIX. 

T>ivme  ConduEi  dijputed  and  jnfiifyd, 

TT7 H E N  we  meet  with  any  thing  in  tlie  Con- 
du6l  of  Men  which  appears  ftrange  and  un- 
accountahle  to  us,  if  at  the  farne  time  it  feem  to  carry 
^"ii  it  the  Afpe<St  of  fomething  low  and  trifling,  we  are 
too  ready  to  think  ourfclves  fuch  Sons  of  Wifdom  rs 
to  pronounce  Puerility  and  Contempt  upon  the  Perfons 
and  their  PracSlice.  So  hafty  are  we  to  pafs  fuddcn 
and  rafh  Judgments  on  the  prefent  Appearanccs  of 
Things,  and  to  imagine  every  thing  is  unreafonable 
when  we  don't  immediately  fee  the  Reafon  of  it,  as  if 
all  Rcafon  were  ingrofs'd  in  our  Bofoms,  and  Wifdorn 
had  no  other  Abode.  Gehtei,  to  fhew  his  own  fupe- 
rlor  Genius,  treats  the  Rites  of  Jl-Iof^s,  and  the  Ccre- 
monies  of  the  ^eivlj):)  Religion,  in  the  fame  manncr  • 
he  cannotde\ife  what  all  thefe  Bells  and  Pom~ranates, 
and  twenty  other  little  Fineries,  were  made  for  upon 
M-3;  tl,-: 


^S^       Mifcellaneons  Thoughts^ 

the  Garments  of  the  High  Prieft  ;  nor  can  he  guefs 

the  Reafon  of  all  the  petty  Pun6lilio's   about  Lambs,. 

and  Rams,  and  red  Heifers,  about  Pigeons,   Hyffop, 

and  Scarlet,  Sprinklings  and  Wafhings.     He  is  utterly 

at  a  Lofs  what  they  were  defign'd  for  ;  and  therefore 

he  roundly  declares  his  Opinion,  that  Mofcs  had  little 

to  do,  who  could  employ  his  Mind  in  contriving  fuch 

Trifles  :  'Tis  unaccountable,  fays  he,  that  a  Perfon 

who  feems  in  other  Tiiings  to  be  a  Man  of  Senfe, 

Ihould  prefcribe  fuch  an  endlefs  Ritual  with  minute 

Dire£lions  about  a  hundred  little  Matters  relating  to  the 

Pins  and  Tacks,  the  Boards  and  Curtains  of  the  Ta- 

bernacle,  and  all  that  Scenery  of  Puerile  Worfhip» 

which  a  wife  Man  would  neither  command  nor  prae- 

tife.     And  thus  he  goes  on  to  fhoot  his  Bolts  of  Blaf- 

phemy  at  divine  Wifdom  over  the  Shoulders  o{  Mofcs, 

and   through    his  Sides  to  ridicule  and  reproach  the 

God  of  Ifrael.     How   often   does   fuch  a  fudden  and 

rafli  Cenfure  difcover  its  own  FoIIy,  when  it  is  pafs'd 

on  the  AiStions  of  Men,  by  a  further  Infight  into  their 

wife   Defigns  ;    and  the  Man   who  poured  out   his 

Laughter  and  Contempt  upon  others,  how  juftly  does 

he   become   tlie    Obje£l  of   Contcmpt   and  Ridic.de 

himfelf,   on  the  account  of  his  Pride  and  Rafhnefs  ? 

But   v/hen  the    Counfels  and    Appointments   of  the 

blelTed    God,    when    the   Works    of    his   Wifdonij 

which    is  vaft  and   deep  Ireyond   our  Ken  and  Fa- 

thcm,    are   thus   taken    t<>  Task   by   filly    Mortals, 

and  deridcd   bccaufe  they  don't  underftand  the  Pur- 

pofe  and   Intent    of  them,    what  flagrant   Impiety 

is 


/»  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.      x$i 

Is  this  ?  What  Impudence  added  to  their  Rafhnefs  ? 
and  how  much  does  it  deferve  the  divinc  Indigna- 
tion  ? 

T  H  I  s  very  Man,  this  Gehtcs,  a  few  Days  ago 
was  carried  by  his  Neighbour  Typiger  to  fee  a  Gentle- 
man  of  his  Acquaintance  ;  they  found  him  ftanding  at 
the  Window  of  his  Chamber,  mo\'ing  and  turning 
round  a  Glafs-Prifm,  near  a  round  Hole  which  he 
had  made  in  the  Window-Shutter,  and  cafting  all  the 
Colours  of  the  Rainbow  upon  the  Wall  of  the  Room  :. 
They  were  unwilling  to  difturb  him,  tho'  he  amus'd 
himfelf  at  this  rate  for  half  an  Hour  together,  merely 
to  pleafe  and  entertain  his  Eye-fight,  as  Geletes  ima- 
gined,  wlth  the  Brightnefs  and  Strength  of  the  Reds 
and  the  Blues,  the  Greens  and  the  Purples,  in  many 
Ihifting  Forms  of  Situation  ;  while  feveral  little  Imple- 
ments  lay  about  him,  of  whitc  Paper  and  Shreds  of 
colour'd  Silic,  pieces  of  Tin  with  Holes  in.  them,. 
Spe£lacles  and  Burning-GlafTes.  When  the  Gen- 
tleman  at  laft  fpy'd  his  Company,  he  came  down 
and  entertain'd  thcm  agreeably  enough  upon  other 
Subjefts,  and   difmifs'd  them. 

A  T  another  time  Gehtes  bchcld  the  fame  Gen- 
tleman  blowing  up  large  Bubbles  with  a  Tobacco- 
Pipe  out  of  a  Bowl  of  Water  well  impregnated  with 
Soap,  which  is  a  common  Dlvafion  of  Bo)'s.  As 
the  Bubbles  rofe,  he  mark'd  the  little  changeable  Co- 
lours  on   the  Surface  of  them  with  great  Attention^ 

tili 


1^^.       Alifcellaneotis  Thoughts, 

till  they  broke  and  vanifh'd  into  Air  and  Water.  He 
feem'd  to  be  very  grave  and  folemn  in  this  Sort  of  Re- 
creation,  and  now  and  then  fmiled  to  fee  the  little 
Appearances  and  Difappearances  of  Colours,  as  the 
Bubble  grcw  thinner  toward  the  Top,  while  the  wa- 
try  Particles  of  it  ran  down  along  the  Side  to  theBot- 
tom,  and  the  Surface  grew  too  thin  and  feeble  to  in- 
clude  the  Air,  then  it  burft  to  pieces,  and  was  loft. 

Well,  fays  Gdotes  to  his  Friend,  T  did  not 
think  you  would  have  carried  me  into  the  Acquain- 
tance  of  a  Madman  :  Surely  he  can  never  be  right  in 
his  Senfes  who  waftes  his  Hours  in  fuch  Fooleries  as 
tbefe.  Whatfoever  good  Opinion  I  had  conceived 
of  a  Gentleman  of  your  Intimacy,  I  am  amazed 
now  that  you  fhould  keep  up  any  degree  of  Ac- 
quaintance  with  him,  when  his  Reafon  is  gone, 
and  he  is  become  a  mere  Child.  What  are  all 
thefe  little  Scenes  of  Sport  and  Amufement,  but 
Proofs  of  the  Abfence  of  his  Underftanding  ?  Poor 
Gcntleman  !  I  pit)'  him  in  his  unhappy  Circum- 
ftances  ;  but  I  hope  he  has  Friends  to  take  care 
of  him  under  this  degree  of  Diftradion. 

Typlger  was  not  a  little  pleafed  to  fee  that  his 
Project,  with  regard  to  his  Neighbour  Gckies  had 
fucceeded  fo  well  ;  and  when  he  had  fafFered  Jiim 
to  run  on  at  this  rate  for  fome  Minutes,  he  in- 
terrupted  him  with  a  furprizing  Word  :  This  ^ery 
Gentleman,  fayshe,  is  the  great  Sir  Isa  a  c  N  e  w- 

T  o  N, 


in  P R o s E  and  Verse.       25^ 

T.  o  N,  the  firft  of  Philofophers,  the  Glory  of  Grcat- 
Britain,  and  renowned  among  the  Nations.  You 
have  beheld  him  now  making  thefe  Experiments 
over  again,  by  which  he  firft  found  out  the  Na- 
ture  of  Light  and  Colours,  and  penetrated  deeper  in- 
to  the  Myfteries  of  them,  than  all  Mankind  ever 
knew  before  him.  This  is  the  Man,'  andtliefe 
his  Contrivances,  upon  which  you  fd  freely  caft 
your  Contempt,  and  pronounce  him  diftradled.  You 
know  not  the  Depth  of  his  Defigns,  and  there- 
fore  you  cenfured  them  all  as  Fooleries  ;  whereas 
the  learned  World  has  efteemed  them  thc  utmoft. 
Reach  of  Human  Sagacity. 

Gelotes  was  all  Confufion  and  Silence.  Where- 
upon  Typiger  proceeded  thus ;  Go  now  and  ridi- 
cule  the  Law-giver  of  Ifrael,  and  the  Cereraonies 
of  the  Jewijh  Church,  which  Mofes  taught  them  ; 
go,  repeat  your  Folly  and  your  Slanders, ,  and  laugh 
at  thefe  Divine  Ceremonies,  merely  becaufe  you 
know  not  the  Meaning  of  them  :  Go  and  afFront- 
the  God  of  Ifrael,  and  reproach  him  for  fending 
Mofes  to  teach  fuch  Forms  of  Worfliip  to  the  Jezvs. 
There  is  not  the  leaft  of  them  but  was  appointed  by 
the  greateft  of  Beings,  and  has  fome  fpecial  Defign 
and  Purpofe  in  the  Eye  of  Divine  Wifdom.  Many 
of  them  are  explained  by  the  Apoftle  Paul^  in  his  - 
Letter  to  the  Hehrews,  as  Types  and  Erablems  of 
the  Glories  and  Bleftings  of  the  New  Teftament  ;  and 
thfi.  reft  of  them,  whofe  Reafon  has  not  becn  difco- 

vered  . 


i$6        Mtfceltmeoics  Tboughts 

vered  to  us,  remain  perhaps  to  be  made  known  at  thc^ 
Converfion  of  the  Jews,  when  Divine  Light  fliall  be 
fpread  over  all  the  ancient  Difpenfations,  and  a 
brighter  Glory  diffufed  over  all  the  Rites  and  Forms 
of  Religion,  which  God  ever  inftituted  among  the 
Race  of  Adanu 

T  H  u  s  far  Typiger  •,  while  Gelotes  was  ftill  filent, 
being  pierced  to  the  Heart  with  a  Convi<5tion  of 
his  Raihnefs  and  Folly,.  and  ftung  inwardly  with 
bitter  Remorfe  at  the  Thoughts  of  his  impious  and 
profane  Raillery.  He  went  home  mournful,  and,  fet 
hiinfelf  with  a  fmcere  and  humble  Enquiry  to  learn 
all  the  fucceflive  Religions  of  the  Bible,  which  he 
had  ridiculed,  and  found  fo  much  Reafon  in  a  great 
Part  of  them,  that  he  fubmitted  to  believe  the  Dig- 
nity  of  them  all,  and  profefs'd  himfelf  a  hearty 
Chriftian.. 

T  H  E  Book  of  Kature  and  the  Book  of  Pro- 
vidence  have  fome  obfcure  Pages  in  them,  as  well 
as  the  Book  of  Religion  and  Grace.  There  are 
many  Appearances  in  the  Creation  of  God,  and 
niany  more  in  his  Government  of  the  World,  which 
are  thus  impudently  arraign'd  by  thoughtlefs  Mor- 
tals.  They  difcover  not  the  Symmetry  and  exadl 
Proportion  between  the  fe\'eral  Parts  of  them,  and 
therefore  they  pronounce  them  the  Works  of  Chance 
and  mere  Caprices  of  Nature.  They  cannot  penetrate 
into-the  diftant  Defigns  of  the  AU-wife  Creator  and 

Rulc- 


in  Vkose  and  Yekse.       15-7 

Ruler  of  the  Univerfe,  and  they  are  ready  to  conclude 
that  there  is  no  Defign,  no  Wifdom  in  them.  But 
he  was  a  much  wifer  Man  who  tells  us,  that  God  has 
made  ruery  thing  hcautiful  in  its  Seafin^  biit  Man  has  this 
IVorldin  his  Heart^  i.  e.  he  is  fo  intent  upon  the  pre- 
fenth'ttle  Spot  of  Ground  on  which  he  ftands,  and  the 
little  Incidents  of  that  Inch  of  Time  in  which  he  ap- 
pears,  that  he  cannot  difcern  the  JVork  that  God  docsfrom 
the  Beginnmg  to  the  End  thereof-y  and  therefore  Men 
are  not  able  to  comprehend  the  admirable  Eeauty 
of  his  Works,  and  they  are  refolved  to  believe  no 
farther  than  they  can  fee.  Vam  Anlmals  of  Flefh 
and  Blood  !  Proud  fwcliing  Reptiles  of  the  Earth  ! 
As  if  a  Company  of  Worms,  who  are  juft  crept 
out  of  their  native  Glebe,  and  retiring  into  it  a- 
gain  after  a  few  Moments,  fhould  pretend  to  ar- 
raign  and  Cenfure  the  Motions  and  Phafes  of  the 
Moon,  and  all  the  Rules  and  Movements  of  the 
Planetary  Worlds.  That  Man  furcly  fliould  have  a 
Stretch  of  Thought  equal  to  Deity,  and  with  one 
fmgle  Survey  grafp  all  the  Atoms  of  created  Mat- 
ter,  and  ail  the  World  of  Minds  with  all  their  Ideas, 
he  fliould  view  at  once  all  their  infinite  Relations 
to  each  other,  with  all  the  Scenes  and  Appear- 
ances  in  the  upper  and  lower  Regions  of  Creation, 
from  the  Beginning  of  Time  far  into  Eternity, 
who  would  dare  to  contefttheWifdom  of  Providence, 
or  of  any  of  the  Works  or  the  Appointments  of  his 
Maker.?  How  manifold  are  tl)y  Works^  0  Lord  ? 
bi  Wifdom  hajl  thou  mads  them  all.     How  unfearch- 

dle 


2,5"  8        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

ahle  are  thy  JVays,  and  thy  Judgmcnts  untrateahk  by 
all  the  Sons  of  Men  !  IVho  has  known  the  Mind  of 
the  Lord^  and  ivho  has  been  his  Counfellor  ?  Of  him, 
and  hy  him,  and  for  hinir  ^^-^  ^*^-^  Things  j  to  whom  le 
Glory  for  ever  and  ever,     Amen. 


LX. 

Shfnl  Ajiger  for  G  o  dV  Sake. 

T  T  is  a  very  poiHble  Thlng  for  u§  to  be  finfully 
"*■  angry  with  our  Neighbour,  even  upon  the  Ae- 
count  of  Sin ;  We  have  Hearts  of  -unfearchable 
Subtilty  and  unfathomable  Dcccit.  Thc  befl  of  us 
are  too  often  tempted  to  follov^'  the  Violence  of 
our  own  carnal  AfFe<Slions,  under  an  Appearance  of 
Zeal  and  Duty,  and  skreen  our  own  Wrath  to  Man, 
under  the  Covert  of  Love  to  God.  And  vvhen  the 
angry  Powers  of  our  Nature  are  fet  on  work  under 
the  Colour  of  fo  divine  a  Principle,  they  are  impatient 
of  all  Reftraint,  and  know  no  Bounds,  for  we  cannot 
do  too  much  for  QcA  and  his  Honour. 

Deirus  is  ready  to  think,  that  if  he  let  fly  all 
his  Wrath  againft  a  Man  for  a  finful  Aclion,  that 
Wrath  can't  rife  to  Excefs  ;  he  perfuades  himfelf 
that  'tis    rather   a  Work    of  Righteoufnefs  than   a 

Fault, 


m  Prose  ^^/^Verse.      z^^ 

Fauk,  and  puts  it  amongft  his  Virtucs  and  his  Ho- 
nours.  I  wifli  Dcirus  would  take  heed,  left  hc 
mingle  the  Heat  of  corrupt  Flcfh  and  Blood  with 
holy  Zeal,  and  offer  Iniquity  for  a  Sacrifice.  In  or- 
der  to  manage  well  in  this  Matter,  I  would  ad- 
moniih  him  to  take  notice  of  thefe  Things. 


F  I  R  s  T,  When  an  A<ftion  offends  both  G  o  D  and 
ourfelves  at  the  fame  time,  we  muft  watch  with  the 
utmoft  Diligence,  left  Sclf-Iovc  difguife  itfelf  in  the 
Form  of  Zeal,  and  command  our  Paffions  entirely 
into  our  own  Service,  whilc  we  think  they  are  at. 
Work  for  G  o  D.  Suppofe  I  havc  often  inftrufted 
young  Pravoy  as  to  his  Moialb  j  fuppofe  I  havo 
carneftly  perfuaded  him  to  any  Duty,  or  cautioned 
him  often  againft  fome  evil  Pradice,  and  I  fee 
him  neverthelefs  obftinately  proceed  in  his  own  Way  j 
perhaps  I  (hall  be  ready  to  indulge  my  Anger  a- 
gainft  him,  bccaufe  he  difobeys  me,  more  than  be- 
caufe  he  difpleaies  G  o  d.  Or  fuppofe  my  Neigh- 
bour  Calumnio  rail  at  me  as  a  Puritan  and  a  Mad- 
man,  becaufe  Pm  (&tn  often  at  Publick  Prayers, 
and  upbraid  and  reproach  me  with  odious  Charges 
for  the  fake  of  my  Religion,  Fm  tempted  to  kindle 
perhaps  into  fudden  Indignation,  chiefiy  bccaufe  Se^ 
is  reviled,  and  not  becaufe  G  o  d  is  difhonoured. 

I N  fuch  Inftances  as  thefe,  therc  is  an  eafy  Way 
to  find  whether  our  Zeal  be  more  Selfifli  or  Di- 
vine.      Let  me  ask  my  own   Heart,    "  Should    I 

*'  have 


^6o        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

«  have  been  fo  angry  with  this  Youth,  if  he  Jiad 
"  negleded  another  Friend's  pious  Advice  in  the 
"  fame  Cafe  wherein  he  has  negleded  mine  r"  and 
yet  the  Sin  againft  G  o  d  would  have  been  the 
fame.  Again,  "  Should  I  have  grown  fo-  warni 
"  againft  Calumnio  for-  reproaching  my  Fellow- 
"  Chriftian  on  the  account  of  his  Devotions,  as  I 
**■  am  for  reproaching  me  ?"  and  yet  his  Offence 
againft  the  Gofpel  had  been  the  fame  ftill.  Thus 
by  putting  Sclf  out  of  the  Cafe,  we  guard  againft 
the  Deceit  of  Self-love,  and  pafs  a  jufter  Sentence 
on   our  own  A£lions, 

Nowif  upon  due  Search  we  find  fhatour  Wrath 
is  awakened  rather  becaufe  an  Adion  offencJs  us, 
than  becaufe  it  offends  G  o  d,  this  is  a  Work  of 
the  Flefo^  and  muft  be  mortified  ;  our  Pafiions  fhould 
all  be  pure.  Our  bleffed  Lord  fefui  bore  a  Load 
of  Perfonal  Reproaches  falling  heavy  upon  himfelf, 
and  opened  not  his  Mouth  ;  but  when  the  Jewijh 
Buyers  and  Sellers  profaned  his  Father's  Houfe  of 
Prayer,  then  indeed  he  affumed  an  extraordinary  . 
Chara£ler,  and  gave  an  Inftance  of  feverc  Zeal 
by  fcourging  them  out  of  the  Teniple,  John  ii.  17. 

S  E  c  o  N  D  L  Y,  Take  care  of  giving  up  the  Reins 
intirely  to  an  angry  Paffion,  tho'  it  pretend  Sin 
for  its  Objedl,  left  it  run  to  an  ungovernable  Ex- 
cefs ;  'tis  St.  Paul's  Counfel,  Be  angry  a?id  fm  noty 
Ephef  iv.  26,  fo  hard  it  is  to  be  angry  upon  any  Ac- 

count 


/;/ 


Prose  and  Yekse,       i,6i 


icount  without  Sinning.  It  was  a  happy  Compari- 
fon  (whofoever  firft  invented  it)  that  the  PalHons 
of  our  Saviour  were  like  pure  Water  in  a  clear 
GJafs  :  fhake  it  never  fo  much,  and  'tis  pure  ftili  j 
there  was  no  Defilement  in  his  holy  Soul  by  the 
warmeft  Agitation  of  all  thofe  Povvers  of  his  Ani- 
mal  Nature  ;  but  ours  are  like  Water  with  Mud 
at  the  bottom,  and  we  can  fcarce  {hake  the  Glafs 
with  the  gentleft  Motion,  but  the  Mud  arifes,  and 
difFufes  itfelf  abroad,  polluting  both  the  Water  and  the 
Veflel.  Our  irafcible  PafTions  can  fcarce  be  indulged  a 
Moment,  but  they  are  ready  to  defile  the  whole 
Man. 

W  E  may  find  whether  cur  Anger  rife  to  a  finfd 
E>:cefi  or  no,  by  fuch  Enquiries  as  thefe. 

D  o  E  s  it  fire  my  Blood  into  Rage,  and  kindle 
my  Spirits  into  a  fudden  Biaze,  like  a  Train  of 
Gunpowder  ?  Then  it  looks  too  much  like  a  Work 
of  the  Fkih,  and  may  creatc  a  juft  Sufpicion  of 
the  pious  Purity  of  it,  for  this  has  not  the  Ap- 
pearancc  of  a  Chriftian  Virtue  ;  our  holy  Religion  is 
a  more  reafonable  and  more  gentle  Thing,  and  never 
teaches  us  to  ac^  with  a  thoughtlefs  Violence,  tho' 
it  fometimes  calls  the  aclive  Powcrs  of  Flefh  and 
Blood   into  the  Afliftance  of  finccre  Zcal. 

D  o  E  s  it  tranfport  us  away  to  thc  Pra<Stice  of 
any  thing   unbccoming  our  Charailer  ?  Does  it  arm 

our 


i6^       Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts, 

our  Tongues  with  vile  and  fcandalous  Names,  ot 
our  Hands  with  hafty  Weapons  of  Outrage  and 
'Cruelty  ?  This  Sort  of  Condu<5t  carries  in  it  more 
of  the  Refemblance  of  the  evil  Spirit  that  feeks 
Revenge  and  Mifchief.  I  confefs  there  have  been 
fome  Examples  of  fevere  and  tcrrible  Zeal  amongft 
the  pious  Jezvs ;  but  we  muft  remember  fhat  the 
meek  and  peaceful  Religion  of  the  Gofpel  was  not 
then  eftablJfliM  ;  and  we  muft  confider  too,  tiiat 
moft  of  thefe  Examples  had  a  Divine  Commiflioii, 
and  were  immediately  infpired  by  G  o  d  himfeif. 
Such  was  the  Cafe  of  Phitieas,  when  Jie  flew  the 
two  Offenders  in  the  Camp  of  Jfrael :  So  Elljah 
called  for  Fire  from  Heaven,  to  deftroy  the  two 
Captains  aud  their  Companies  ;  and  our  I^ord  ye- 
fus  Chrij%  un-der  the  fame  Divine  Influence^  fcourged 
the  Merchants  out  of  the  Teniple.  But  our  Lord 
himfelf  reproved  his  own  Difciples  wlien  thev  had 
a  mind  to  imitate  the  Wrath  of  Elijah^  ?nd  taught 
tbem  that  under  his  Difpenfation,  which  was  fliortlv 
to  be  fet  up,  Ztal  was  a  gentler  Virtue,  and  more 
of  a-piece  with  the  reft  of  that  Religion  which  hc 
<lefigned    to   inftitute. 

A  N  o  T  H  E  R  ^ieftion  we  ftiould  put  to  ourfelves 
to  find  Whetker  mr  Anger  he  excefjive^  or  710,  is  this, 
Does  it  throw  us  off"  from  our  Guard,  difpoflefs 
■  us  of  cur  Temper,  and  darken  our  Tudgment  .? 
Doc-3  it  make  us  fierce  and  pofitive  ?  Does  it  rob 
U".  oi  our  Patience,  aiKl  rendcr  us  deaf  to  all   fo- 

bef 


iu  PROSE  /?;/<^  Verse.       2.^3 

ber  Remonftrances  and  Excufes  ?  Tlieit  it  can  never 
be  from  G  o  d,  tho'  it  pretend  to  be  for  him  ; 
for  Self-government  is  an  eternal  Diity,  and  the 
fVifdcm  which-  is  from  ahcve  is  fivift  to  hcar^  and 
flow  to  fpeaky  it  is  eafy  to  he  intreated^  and  fiill  of 
Forgivcmf. 

F I N  A  L  L  Y,  let  us  ask,  Does  the  Pa/Iion  ren- 
der  us  uufit  for  any  Duty  to  God,  tempt  us  to 
omit  any  Duty  to  M.m,  or  hinder  us  in  the  Per- 
ibrmancp  of  either  ?  We  may  then  aillire  ourlel\es 
it  rifes  to  Excels,  and  becomes  iii  fome  meafure 
chminal. 

'T  I  6  a  certain  Rule  of  Prudence,  that  all  thefe 
Animal  Powers,  be  they  never  fo  juftly  employ'd,  de- 
ferve  a  watchRil  and  fevere  Guard  upon  them,  lefi 
they  grow  unruly  and  extravagant. 

T  H  E  laft  Piece  of  Advice  that  I  would  give 
to  my  Friends,  and  learn  to  take  myfelf,  is-this, 
That  where  tlie  mere  Jppearame' oi  an  angry  PaiTion 
will  attain  the  fame  End,  I  would  not  chufe  to 
give  myfelf  the  Trouble  and  Difquietude  of  fecling 
a  real  one.  VVhy  fhould  I  fuffer  my  Blood  and 
Spirits  to  rife  into  Diforder,  if  the  Piclure  of  An- 
ger  in  my  Countenance,  and  the  Sound  of  it  imi- 
tated  in  my  Voice,  will  efFccSlually  difcourage  and 
reprove  the  Vice  I  would  forbid  ?  If  I  am  but 
wifc  enough  to  raife  an  Appearance  of  Refentment, 

I  need 


2.^4       Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

I  need  not  be  at  the  Pains  to  throw  myfelf  into 
this  uneafy  Ferment.  Is  it  not  better  for  me,  ae 
a  Man  and  a  Chriftian,  to  maintain  a  calm,  fe- 
date  Averfion  to  the  Sin,  and  exprefs  my  Diflike  of 
it  fometimes  at  leafl  rather  by  a  counterfeit  than 
real  Anger  ?  If  Hypocrify  be  lawful  any  where, 
furely  it  may  be  allowed  in  this  Gafe  to  diflemble  a 
little. 

A  N  D  to  carry  the  Matter  yet  further,  I  think  I 
may  afljbrt,  there  are  feveral  fuch  Occurrences  in  Life, 
wherein  'tis  better  not  fo  much  as  to  imitate  Anger, 
and  to  exprefs  nothing  like  it,  tho'  the  Sin  may  be 
heinous  :  Anorgus^  an  excellent  Man,  and  an  exem- 
plary  Chrifl:ian,  would  not  only  fupprefs  all  Wrath, 
but  conceal  allAppearance  of  it,  lefl:  the  offending 
Perfon,  by  feeing  him  difcompofed  or  refenting,  might 
be  kindled  into  the  fame  Paflion,  and  thus  be  rendered 
unfit  to  receive  a  Reproof  from  him,  and  grow  deaf  to 
all  his  divine  Reafonings. 

'T  I  s  a  certain  and  fhameful  Truth,  that  in  this 
frail  and  finful  State,  wc  love  ourfelves  fo  much,  and 
G  o  D  fo  little,  that  we  feldom  begin  to  grow  angry 
for  G  o  d's  Sake,  but  we  foon  grow  more  angry  for 
our  own  :  Therefore  upon  almofl:  all  Accounts  it  may 
be  given  as  a  Piece  of  general  and  fafeAdvice,  That 
let  the  Occafion  be  never  fo  provoking,  yet  the  lefs 
Fury  !he  better.  The  JVrath  of  Man  mver  worh  the 
Bjghtcoufnefs  of  God. 

LXL 


/;/ 


pROSE  and  Verse.       1.6$ 


LXI. 

On   tbe  Coronation  of  their  Majejliei 
King  George  II.  and  ^teen  Ca- 

ROLINE. 

O^lober  II.  1727, 

T^ RG  O  armis  invi^e  Hercs age  :  fortibus  apta 

Enfem  humeris  ;  meritam  Ckmentia  temperet  Iram 
Dum  regis^  ^  Leges  ?noUi  clementcr  acerhas, 
Tefuper  aquavos  omnes  Regnator  Olympi 
Diligit,  tsf  Iceto  vultum  exhilaravit  Olivo  j 
Ille  xxLumfacro  cingit  Diadcmate  Crinem, 
Tranfmittetque  tuam  Longava  in  facula  famam . 

En  Regina  teri  confors  tibi  dextera  adharety 
Auro  pi5la  SinuSy  auro  radiata  Capillos  ; 
Tota  decenSy  tota  efi  gemmifque  infignis  iff  aur»  : 
At  Facies  cultum  illufaat,  facieque  decord 
Vuhhrior  ejl  animus.  B  u  c  h  a  >r  a  k  . 

The  Coronation-Day.     An  O  d  e  . 

I. 
"n   ISE  happy  Morn,  fairSun,  arife  ;  * 

•*-^  Shed  radiant  Gold  around  the  Skies, 
And  rich  in  Beams  and  Bleflings  {hine, 
Profufc  on  G  fi  o  R  G  E  and  C  a  r  0  1 1  n  z, 

N  II.  Illu. 


z66       Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts^ 
II. 

Illufliious  Palr  !  No  Tear  to  day 

Bedew  the  Royal  Parents  Clay  ! 

*Tis  George  theBLEST  remounts  the  Thronc, 

With  double  Vigour  in  his  Son. 

III. 

Lo,  the  Majeflick  Form  appears,  / 

-Sparkhng  in  Life  and  manly  Years  : 
l^he  Kingdom'3  Pride,  the  Nation's  Choice, 
And  Heav'n  approv^s  Britannia's  Voice. 

IV. 
Monarch,  aflume  thy  Powers,  and  ftand 
The  Guardian-Heroe  of  our  Land  : 
Let  A  L  B  I  o  n's  Sons  thy  Style  proclaim, 
And  diftant  Realms  revere  thy  Name. 

V. 
Bear  on  thy  Brows  th'  Imperial  Crown  : 
Rebellion  dies  beneath  thy  Frown  : 
A  thoufand  Gems  of  Luftre  fhed 
Their  Lights  and  Honours  round  thy  Head, 

VL 

Lift  up  thy  Rod  of  Majefty,  * 

The  Foes  of  G«d  and  Man  fhall  flee : 

Vice  with  her  execrable  Band 

Shakes  at  the  Sword  in  G  E  o  R  G  e'o  Hand. 


The  Zcepre, 


VII. 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       z6j 

VII. 

-Law,  Juftice,  Valour,  Mercy  rlde 
In  Arms  of  Triumph  at  his  Side, 
And  each  celeflial  Grace  is  {tQn 
In  milder  Glories  round  the  Qjj  e  e  n'. 

VIU. 

Hail  Royal  Falr  !  divinely  wife  ! 
Not  Aujh-ian  Crowns  *  could  tempt  tliy  Eyee 
To  part  with  Truth.      'Twas  brave  Dirdain» 
When  Cn.  s  a  r  figh'd,  arifl  Iov'd  in  vain. 

IX. 

But  Heaven  provides  a  rich  Rcward  ; 
G  E  o  R  G  E  is  thy  Lover  and  thy  Lord  : 
The  BrltiJJ)  Lion  bears  thy  Fame, 
Where  Aujlrian  Eagles  have  no  Name. 

X. 
See  the  falr  Train  of  Princes  near  : 
Come,  Frederick,  Royal  Youth,  appcar^ 
And  grace  the  Day.     SJiall  foreign  \  Charms 
Siill  hold  thee  from  thy  Country's  Arms-, 

XL 

Britain^  thy  Country  ?  f  Prince,  arife, 
The  Morning-Star  to  gild  our  Skies  i 

*  Archducal  and  ImpindL 

+  That  ingenlous  Device  of  the  Figures  of  Great  Britam 
and  the  Proieftant  Religion  attending  her  Majjiy  on  her  Coro- 
nation  Mcdal,  zvith  the  Motto  Hic  amor,  Hac  patria,  ma^ 
fupport  andjujiify  theje  Exprejfions. 

N  2  (O  may 


258        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts, 

I  (O  may  no  Cloud  tJiy  Luftre  xlain  \) 

Come,  lead  along  the  fhining  Train. 

XII. 

Each  in  Parcntal  Virtues  drefs'd, 
Each  born  to  make  a  Nation  blefsM  : 
What  Kings,  what  Heroes  yet  ungrown, 
Shall  court  theNymphs  to  grace  their  Thronc. 

XIII. 
Mark  that  young  Branch  *  of  rifing  Fame, 
Proud  of  our  Great  Deh\'erer's  Name  : 
He  promifes  in  Infant-Bloom, 
To  fcourge  fome  Tyram-Power  of  R:me. 

XIV. 
Bloom  on,  fair  Stem  I  Each  Flower  that  blows, 
Adds  new  Defpair  to  Albion^s,  Focs, 
And  kills  their  Hearts.     O  glorious  View 
Of  Joys  for  AMoni  ever  new  ! 

XV. 
Religlon,  Duty,  Trutli  and  Love, 
In  Ranks  of  Honour  fliine  and  move  ; 
Pale  Envy,  Slander,  Fraud  and  Spite, 
Retire,  and  hide  in  Caves  of  Night. 

XVI. 
E  u  R  o  P  E,  behold  th'  amazing  Scene: 
Empire  and  Liberty  convene 
*  Pvince  W  I  L  L  I A  M. 


To 


m  P  R  0  s  E  ajtd  Ve  r  s  e'.        1^9 

To  join  their  Joys  and  Wiihes  here, 
While  Rome  and  Heli  confent  to  fear. 

XVII. 
Eternal  G  o  D,  whofe  boundlefs  Sway 
Angels  and  ftarry  Worlds  obey, 
Command  thy  choiceft  Favours  down, 
Where  thy  own  Hands  have  flxt  the  Crawn. 

XVIIT. 
Come,  Light  Divine,  and  Grace  unknown, 
Come,  aid  the  Labours  of  thc  Throne  ; 
Let  B  Ri  T  A  I  n's  golden  Ages  run 
1«  Clrdes  lafting  as  the  Smi. 

XIX. 

Bid  fome  brlght  Legion  fromtheSky 

AfTift  the  glad  Solemnity  : 

Ye  Hofts,  thatwait  on  favourite  Kings, 

Wave  your  broad  Swords,  and  clap  3'our  Wings, 

XX. 

Then  rife,  and  to  your  Realms  convey 
The  glorious  Tidings  of  the  Day  : 
Great  W  i  l  L  l  a  m  fliall  rejoice  to  know, 
Tiiat  G  E  0  R  G  E  the  Second  reigns  below. 


N  ^,  LXIL 


170       Mifcellaneoiis  Thoughts,. 


LXII. 

J[  Loyal  W I  s  H  on  her  Majeftys  Birth- 
*Z)^',  March  i.  commonly  called  St* 
David's-Day. 

Borrcwed  from  P  s  a  l  M  cxxxii.  i  c,  1 1 . 

I. 

C  I L  E  N  C  E,.  yc  Nations  j  f/rael,  hear ;; 
^  Tlius  liath  the  Lord  to  DcrjiJ  fworn, 
*'  Train  up  thy  Sons  to  learn  my  Fear, 
**  And  Judah^s  Crown  fliall  all  thy  Race  adorn  j 
'*  Theirs  be  the  Royal  Hoiiours  thou  haft  won, 
"  Long  as  the  ftarry  Wheels  of  Nature  run  ; 
'-'  Nature,  be  thou  my  Pledge  j   my  Wknefs  be  the 

[Sun^ 

II. 

Now,  Brltaht,  let  thy  Vows  arife, 
"  May  George  the  Royal  Saint  alTume  ! 
Th«n  ask  PermiHion  of  the  Skies, 
To  put  the  favourite  Name  in  David's  Room : 
Fair  Carclina,  join  thy  pious  Cares 
To  train  in  Virtue's  Path  your  Royal  Heirs,^ 
And  be  tlie  Britip  Crown  wlth  endlefs  Honour  theirs. 

LXIII. 


m  P R o s E  and  Verse.       a^r 


LXIII. 

P  I  E  T  Y     ///    a     C  O  U  R  T, 

To   Ph  I  L  O  M  E  L  A. 

Ma  D  A  M, 
T  K  N  o  w   not  by  what  Traln  of  Ideas  I  was  ied 

ihls  Moining  to  niiife  on.  thefe  ibur  Lines  whic-U  1 
fcad  fgnie  wliere  mu\y  Yeari  ago. 

The  Cotirfi  a  gdktif  but  a  fatal  Circk^ 
Upofi  whofe  maguk  Skirts  a  thoufand  Devili 
Jn  chryflal  Formsftt  tempting  Innocence^ 
And  beckon  early  Virtuefrom  its  Centre.. 

T  H  I  s   Defcrlption  of  a  Court  gave  occarion  to 
the  foUowing  Enquiries. 

I  s  there  a  lovely  Soul,  fo  much  Divine, 
Can  a6l  her  glorious  Part,  and  move,  and  fhlnc 
On  this  enchanted  Spot  of  treach'rous  Ground, 
Nor  give  her  Vcrtue  nor  her  Fame  a  Wound  ? 

Is  there  a  Soul  fo  temper'd,  fo  refin'd, 
That  Pomp  nor  fccls  Iier  Scnfe,  nor  fires  thc  Mind, 

N  4  That 


27^       MlfcelUneous  Thoughts; 

That  foars  above  the  Globe  with  hlgh  Difdaln, 
Wbile  Earth's  gay  Trlfles  tempt  herThoughts  in  vain  > 

I  s  there  a  Soul  can  fix  her  raptur'd  Eyes, 
And  glance  warm  Wifhes  at  her  kindred  Skies 
Thro'  Roofs  of  vaulted  Gold,  while  round  her  burn. 
Love's  wanton  Fires,  and  die  beneath  her  Scorn  ? 

Is  thcre  a  Soul  at  Court  that  feeks  thc  Grove 
Or  lonely  Hill  to  mufe  on  heavenly  Love  j 
And  when  to  Crowds  and  State  her  Hour  defcends, 
She  keeps  her  Confcience  and  her  God  her  Friends  ? 

H  A  V  E  ye  not  met  her,  Angelfe;^  in  her  Fllght, 
Wing'd  wlth  Devotion,  thro'  meridian  Night, 
Ne'er   Heav'hs  high  Portal  ?  —  Angels,    fpeak   her 
Confign  Eufehia  to  celeftlal  Fame  :  [Name, 

While  Pkilomel  in  Language  like  your  (5wn 
To  mortal  Ears  makes  her  young  Vi<5lories  known  j 
Let  Rapkael  to  the  Skies  her  Honours  fing, 
And  Triuraphs  daily  new.     Wlth  friendly  Wing 
Gdbrid  in  Armsattend  her  thro'  the  Field 
Of  facred  War,  and  Meny  be  her  Shield, 
While  with.  un{lilly'd  Charms  fhe  makes  her  Way 

Thro'  Scenes  of  dangercus  Life,  to  Realms  of  endlefs 

[Day. 

I  perfaade  myfelf,  M  A  D  a  m,  you  will  acknow- 
ledge  that  thefe  Queries  are  determined  with  much 
Truth  and  Juftice,  and  centres  in  a  Name  that 
anfwers  every  Enquiry.     Eufebia   has  fuch  a   Guard 

of 


/'»  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  k.       173 

of  Modefty  ever  attending,    as    forbids    thefe  Lines 
to    appear    before    her    from    my   Hand  ;    but   Jle-  ■ 
thhia  happen'd  to  ftt  among  a  few  intimate  Fricnds 
while  this  Letter  v/as  read  thus  far  ;    and   here  flie 
interrupted    the   reading  with  a  friendly   Impatience- 
to  confirm    it,      "I    know  Etijehiah   Modefty,  faid 
"  fne,  and  a  Blufli  will  be  eafily  raifed  in  the  Face  of 
"  fo  much    Virtue  ;  yet    I    don't   think  the  Writer 
"  hath   miftook  her  Charailer ;    in  my  Opinion 'tis 
"  juft:  and  fincere ;  her  whole   Converfation  is  of  a 
"  Piece  :    Her  publick  and  her  private  Hours  are  of 
"  the  fame  Colour  and  Hue :    She   is   much  a  Chri- 
"  ftian  in  the  Family  and  the  Clofet,  nor  doth  flie 
'*■  put  ofFany  part  of  that  glorious  Profeflion  at  Court. 
"  I  have  been-favour'd  with  fome  of  the  Fruits  of  hcr 
"  retir'd  Meditations,  and   as   I  have  long    had   the 
**  Happinefs  of  her  Acquaintance,  I  dare  pronounce 
*'  that  flie  lives  what  flie  writes.     It  fo  happens  at 
"  prefent,  thatlcangive  you  aTafle  of  her  Piety  and 
*'■  her  Acqiiaintance   with   the  IMufes  togetlier,  for  I 
"  have  had  Leave  to  tranfcribe  threc  or  four  Copies 
"  with    which    I   have  becn  much  entertained,  aiid 
*'  I'm  perfuaded  you'll  thank  me  for  the  Entertain- 
"  ment  they  give  you." 

I .  A  Rurdl  Meditation-. 

TT  E  R  E  in  the  tuneful  Groves  and  flow'ry  Fields, 

Nature  a  Tlioufand  various  Beauti?s  }  ields  : 
The  Daify  and  tall  Cowflip  v/e  behold 
Array'd  in  fnowy  White,  or  freckled  Gold. 

N  ?  TK, 


274       Mifcellafieous  Thoughts, 

The  verdant  Profpefl  cheriflies  our  Sight, 
Affording  Joy  unmixVI,  and  calm  Delight ; 
The  Foreil-Walks  and  Venerable  Shade, 
Wide-fpreading  Lawns,  bright  Rills,  and  filent  Glade, 
With  a  Religious  Awe  our  Souls  infpire, 
And  to  the  Heavens  our  raptur'd  Thoughts  afpire, 
To  him  vvho  fits  in  Majefty  on  high, 
Who  turn'd  the  ftarry  Arches  of  the  Sky  ; 
Whofe  Word  ordain'd  the  filver  Tha?}ies  to  flow,. 
R.ais'd  all  the  Hills,  and  laid  the  Vallies  low  ; 
Wlio  taught  thc  Nightingale  in  Shades  to  fing, 
And  bid  thc  Sky-Lark  warble  on  the  Wing  ; 
Makes  thc  young  Steer  obcdicnt  till  the  Land, 
And  lowing  Heiiers  own  the  Milker's  Hand  ; 
Calms  the  rough  Sea,  and  ftills  the  raging  Wind^ 
And  rulcs  the  PalTions  of  the  Human  Mind. 


_  2.  A  Penitejiiial  T  h  o  u  g  h  t. 

f^  A  N  I  then  gri«ve  for  ev'ry  Wretch's  Woe,. 
And  weep  if  I  but  hear  a  7'ale  of  Sorrow  ? 
Say,  can  I  fiiare  in  every  one's  AiHi6I:ion, 
Yet  ftill  remain  thus  ftupid  to  my  own  ? 
Is  then  my  Heart  to  all  the  World  befide 
Softer  than  raelting  Wax  or  Summer  Snow,. 
But  to  myfelf,  harder  than  Adamant  ? 
Can  I  bchold  the  Ruin  Sin  has  madc, 
And  feel  God'slmage  in  my  Soul  defac'd  ; 
Nor  beavea  Sigh,  nor  drop  a  pityingTear 
At  my  fad  Fate,  nor  lift  my  Kycs  to  Heaven 

*  For 


m  Fk  o  s  e  and'  V  e  r  s  e.       275- 

For  Aid  againft  the  Fiatt'ries  of  the  WorJd, 

The  Wiles  of  So.tan  and  the  Joys  of  Senfe  ? 

Giveme,  ye  Springs,  O  give  me  all  your  Streants 

That  I  may  weep  ;  nor  thus  with  ftupid  Gaze 

Behold  my  Ruin,  like  a  Wretch  enchanted 

Whofe  Faculties  are  bound  with  powerful  Charms,. 

To  fome  accurfed  Spot  of  Earth  confin'd. 

Give  me,  ye  gentle  Winds,  your  bahny  Breath 

To  heave  my  Bofom  with  continued  Sighs.  — 

Teach  me,  ye  Wood-Doves,  your  complaining  Note 

To  mourn  my  Fall,  to  mourn  my  rocky  Heart, 

My  Headftrong  Will,  and  every  fmful  Thought. 

In  filent  Shades  retlr'd  I  long  to  dwell, 

Far  from  the  Tumults  of  the  bufy  World, 

And  all  the  Sounds  of  Mirth  and  clamorous  Joy, 

'Till  every  ftormy  PafTion  isfubdu'd, 

And  God  has  full  pofleiTion  of  my  Soul ; 

'Till  all  my  Wifhes  centre  in  his  Will, 

And  I  no  more  am  fetter'd  to  the  World  ; 

'Till  all  the  Bufmefsof  my  Life  is  Praife, 

And  my  fuU  Heart  o'erflows  with  heavenly  Love, 

While  all  created  Beauties  lofe  their  Charms, 

And  G  o  D  is  AU  in  AII. 


3,.  A  Midnight  Hy  ^m  x. 

'T"'  O  thce,  All-glorious,  cver  blefTed  Pow'r, 

I  confccratc  this  filent  Midnight  Hour, 
While  folemn  Darknefs  covers  o'er  the  Sky, 
And  all  Things  wrapt  in  gcntle  Slumbers  lic. 


^7^       MtfielUneous  Thoughts, 

Unwearled  let  me  praife  thy  holy  Name, 

And  ev'ry  Thought  with  Gratitude  inflame, 

For  the  rich  Mercies  which  thy  Hands  impart, 

Health  to  my  Flefh,  and  Comfort  to  my  Heart. 

O  may  my  Prayers  before  thy  Throne  arife, 

An  humble,  but  accepted  Sacrifice  ! 

And  when  thou  fhalt  my  weary  Eye-lids  clofe, 

And  to  my  Body  grant  a  foft  Repofe, 

May  my  ethereal  Guardian  kindly  fpread 

His  Wings,  and  from  the  Tempter  fcreen  my  Headl 

Grant  of  celeftial  Light  fome  piercing  Beams, 

To  blcfs  my  Sleep  and  fandify  my  Dreams.. 


4.  The  Dfjiing  Chrijiian^s  H  0  p  e. 

•  r 

TT7  H  E  N  faint  and  fmking  to  the  Shades  of  Death, 
^     I  gafp  with  Painfor  every  Iab'ring  Breath, 
O  may  my  Soul  by  fome  bleft  Foretafte  know 
That  flie's  deHver'd  from  eternai  Woe! 
May  Hope  in  Ckriji  difpel  each  gloomy  Fear^ 
AndThoughts  like  tlicfe  my  dropping  Spirits  chcar.  . 
What  tho'  my  Sins  are  of  a  crimfon  Stain, 
My  Saviour's  Blood  can  wafh  me  white  again  : 
Tho'  num^rous  as  the  twinkling  Stars  theybe,, 
Or  Sands  along  the  Margin  of  the  Sea  ; 
Or  as  fmooth  Pebbles  on  fome  beachy  Shore, 
The  Mercies  of  th'  Almighty  ftill  are  more. 
He  looks  upon  my  Soul  with  pitying  Eyes, 
Si^cs  all  my  Fears,  and  liftens  to  my  Cries ; 

He 


He  knowsthe  Frailtyof  each  human  Breaft, 
VVhat  Paffions  our  unguarded  Hearts  moleftj 
And  for  the  Sakeof  hisdear  dying  Son 
Will  pardon  all  the  Ills  that  I  have  done. 
Arm'd  with  fo  bright  a  Hope,  I  fhall  not  fear. 
To  fee  my  Death  hourly  approach  more  near  j 
But  my  Faith  ftrength'ning  as  my  Life  decays, 
My  dying  Breath  fhall  mount  to  Heaven  in  Praife, 

T  H  E  Company  was  i^ota  lltde  charmed  with  the 
unaffecled  Air  of  Piety  and  Devotion  which  runs- 
through  all  thefe  O  d  e  s,  and  pronounced  the  Pea 
which  wrote  Eufebia's  Characfler  guiltlcfs  of  Flattery,, 
where  the  Life  correfponds  v/ith  fuch  facred  Poefy  as- 
this,  and  makes  the  mofl  tuneful  Harmony  in  theEars- 
of  the  blelTed  God,  and  of  all  the  Inhabitants  of 
Heaven. 


LXIV. 

TT;^?  Courteous  and  the  Peevi/h. 

'T*  H  E  R  E  are  two  evident  Reafons  why  a  Creature 
who  is  proud  and  angry  in  Youth,  generaKy 
grows  old  in  thefe  Vices,  and  nevcr  corredb  them. 
Some  who  were  born  near  Neighbours  to  Vifpus,  and 
have  known  his  Condu6l  from  the  Cradle,  have 
named  him  to  me  as  a  very  rcmarkable  Example,  .  in 

whoni 


ly^        Mijcellaneous  Thoughts-y 

whom  thefe  two  Reafons  prevail,  to  keep  hlm  an 
everlafting  Slave  to  thefe  Paflions  ;  for  in  the  firft 
Place  he  had  always  fuch  an  unchangeable  good  Opi- 
nion  of  himfelf  and  his  own  Conduft,  that  he  could 
never  fpy  out  his  own  Blemiflies,  nor  could  he  find 
any  occafion  to  charge  himfelf  with  thefe  Iniquities, 
and  therefore  he  indulged  them  without  Self-Reproof ; 
and  then  alfo  he  is  of  fo  \'t-:y  wafpifli  a  Temper,  that 
he  will  not  bear  any  Fricnd  to  give  him  the  gentlcft 
Notice  of  his  own  Follies.  He  kindles  at  once  upon 
the  fofteft  Syllables  of  Remonftrance  into  a  fudden 
Fit  of  Indignation  ;  his  Spirits  rife  into  a  Blaze  all  in 
a  Moment,  and  v.'ith  Fire  andThunder  he  filences 
the  moft  friendly  Admoniftier.  The  peevifli  and  the 
furious  Boy  by  this  Means  is  become  a  Man  of 
Peeviflinefs  and  Fury.  He  wears  his  natlve  Crimes  to 
old  Age :  Gxowing  Years  and  decaying  Nature  in- 
creafe  thefe  unhappy  Paflions,  thefe  inward  uneafy 
Ferments  ;  and  while  Vegetables  lofe  their  four 
Juices,  and  are  mellowed  by  Time,  this  Animal 
grows  fourer  ftill  by  Age  ;  he  appears  daily  more 
fretful  and  more  imperious.  Tho'  he  will  bear  no 
Admonition  Jiimfelf,  yet  he  deals  out  his  Rebukes  to 
others  with  a  fovereign  Air,  and  while  many  fc.ir 
hlm,  there  are  few  or  none  that  love  him, 

He  has  pafs'd  through  feveral  Indifpofitions  In 
the  Courfe  of  Life,  and  been  often  confin'd  to  liis 
Chamber  by  Sicknefs  ;  but  at  fuch  Seafons  the  wholc 
Family  is  in  Terror,  for  thc  peevifli  Humour  grows 

into- 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       2  79- 

intolerable.  No  Perfon  or  Thing  can  pleafe  him  ; 
whether  Things,  or  Perfons,  or  Circumftances,  aU- 
offend.  Not  a  Motion,  not  a  Step,  not  a  Word  is 
light.  He  is  ever  teizing  his  Attendants  with  fharp 
and  infolent  Language,  tho'  they  do  all  that  Nature 
and  Art  can  do  to  comport  with  his  Will.  He  has 
ILved  uneafy  in  the  midft  of  Health  and  Eafe,  and  no 
wonder  that  he  is  all  Chagrin  and  Impatience  wheu 
Pain  attacks  him  ;  and  he  feems  to  fret  then  with 
fome  Colour  or  Pretence.  In  fliort,  he  inwardly 
murmurs  at  Providence  which  has  fmitten  him  ;  and 
while  he  refents  the  Condu£l  of  Heaven,  he  makes  all 
who  are  near  him  on  Earth  feel  his  Refentment.  He 
is  now  in  the  laft  Stage  of  Life,  and  the  fame  Man 
ftill.  The  Leopard  cannct  put  offhh  Spots,  mr  the  Ethio- 
pian  change  his  Skin  :  Anc/  he  that  has  indulged  his 
Vices  throughout  his  whole  Life  againft  all  Admoni- 
tions,  has  little  Reafon  to  expedt  that  he  fhall  be  de- 
hvered  from  thefe  Iniquities  at  Death.  7^he  Sins  of 
his  Nature  feera  to  go  down  with  him  to  the  Duft, 
and  they  cleave  fo  clofe  to  the  whole  Man,  that  'tis 
well  if  they  do  not  rife  again  with  iiim,  and  attend 
him  for  ever., 

NoT  fo  Placcuiiay  the  Wife  and  the  Courteou?. 
Tlio'  (he  has  been  furrounded  with  Temptations  to 
PriJe  and  Anger,  yet  fhe  had  but  litrle  Vice  in  her  Ori- 
ginal  Conftitution,  and  has  almoft  nul]ify'd  that  little 
by  Rulcs  of  Virtue,  by  the  Labours  of  Piety,  and  the 
Aids  of  Divinc  Grace,     She   was  educated  from  her 

CradL- 


'L^o        Mifcelliineom  Thaughts^ 

Gradle  in  all  the  Forms  of  Grandeur  ;  fhe  has  been' 
furrounded  with  Complaifance  of  every  kind,  and  the- 
Civilities  due  to  the  Sex  have  lefs  expofed  her  to 
Rudenefs  and  Contradidion  ;  yet  fhe  has  learnt  to 
bear  an  Oppofition,  both  to  her  Sentiments  and  her 
Will,  without  awakening  an  angry  Paflion,  or  feeling 
an  uneafy  Ferment  within.  She  receives  the  Senti- 
ments  of  her  Companions,  when  they  are  different 
from  her  own,  with  all  the  ferene  Airs  of  a  Philofo- 
pher,  who  has  nothing  in  purfuit  but  Reafon  and 
Truth  ;  and  if  flie  happen  to  take  a  Step  amifs,  the 
Admonition  of  a  Friend  is  numbered  amongft  her  Be- 
nefits  and  her  ObligatLons. 

H  E  R  Nature  is  not  robufl,  but  rather  of  a  fickly 
Make  ;  yet  neither  Pain  nor  Sicknefs  provoke  a 
peevifh  Word  from  her.  She  has  learnt  to  receive 
the  AfHiftion  as  an  awakening  Stroke  from  Heaven, 
defisned  to  loofen  her  Hcart  from  all  that  is  mortal  : 
fhe  is  all  Submiilion  to  the  Hand  of  a  heavenly  Fa- 
ther,  and  weans  herfelf  daily  from  every  thing  bcneath 
and  befide  God.  She  knows,  or  believes  at  leafl,  that 
her  Friends  and  her  Attendants  feek  her  Eafe,  and  fhe 
accepts  all  they  do  with  a  grateful  Pleafure.  She  had 
rather  bear  an  Inconvenience  herfelf,  than  give  an 
Uneafinefs  even  to  the  meaner  Figures  of  Mankind  : 
Every  one  loves  to  do  kind  Offices  for  Phcentia^  and 
happy  are  they  who  can  admiiiifter  any  Relief  to  her 
i\\  all  her  painful  Hours. 


I 


m 


Prose  tf«^  Vers  E.       i8i 


If  fhe  ever  finds  occafion  to  give  a  Reproof, 
*tis  with  fo  much  Addrefs,  with  fuch  Wifdora  and 
fuch  Sweetnefs,  that  the  Perfon  reproved  is  convin- 
ced  and  pfeafed  at  once,  and  his  Reformation  is  efFec- 
tually  begun.  A  few  Days  ago  fhe  made  this  appear 
with  pecuHar  Happinefs. 

Criiillo  happened  to  pay  his  Morning  Attendance, 
and  hcard  divine  Service  at  tiie  fame  Church  which 
Placentia  frequcnted.  When  Prayers  were  done,  the  ^ 
Preacher  begun  j  he  fpoke  m.any  fubftanpal  Truths, 
agreeably  enough  to  the  Text  whence  he  derlved 
his  Difcourfe,  and  he  drew  fome  Pradical  Infcrences 
at  tlie  Clofe,  with  Juftice,  and  with  fome  dcgree  of 
Fervcncy.  But  (alas !  faid  Critilh)  there  were  fo 
many  old-fafhion'd  Slmilitudes  and  aukward  Flourifhes 
with  which  he  feemed  to  garnifh  his  Sernion ;  fome. 
times  the  Language  was  fo  mean  and  creeping, 
fbme  of  the  Phrafes  appeared  fo  antiquated,  others 
fo  vulgar,  and  many  of  them  carried  fuch  an  af- 
fe£ted  Air  of  the  Sublime  and  Magnificent,  that  all 
my  Devotion  was  fpoird.  I  think  I  went  to  Church 
with  2  good  Heart  and  Defires  of  Improvement,  but  I 
had  no  Appetite  cven  to  fpiritual  Food,  whert  it 
was  drefs'd-and  difli'd  out  in  fo  difagreeable  a  man- 
ner,  I  mufl  confefs  I  came  home  much  out  of  Hu- 
mour,  and  found  no  Profit  at  all.  Phucntia  madc 
but  few  and  gcntle  Replie:^ ;  but  in  order  to  obtain 
more  Converfarion  on  the  Subje^a:,    flie  invited  Critillo 

to 


2^1        Mlfcellaneous  Thoughts, 

to  Dinner  laft  Wednefday.  She  provided  whoKbme 
and  proper  Food  in  a  becoming  Varietv,  but  tlie 
Difties  were  of  a  very  antique  Mould,  the  Difpofition 
of  them  quite  out  of  fafhion,  and  while  the  Garnifh 
of  fome  was  profufely  rich  and  gay,  that  of  others  was 
vcry  coarfe  and  poor.  CritiUo  knowing  his  fmcers 
Welcome,  fat  down,  and  confefs'd  he  eat  ver)'  hearti- 
ly  ;  but  after  Dinner  he  took  the  Freedom  to  ask  the 
Lady  whether  this  was  the  neweR-  Mode  of  Entertain- 
_  ment,  or  whatflie  meant  by  fuch  an  odd  fort  of  Elegance 
"  in  the  Oeconomy  of  her  Table.  I  meant,  faid  Pla- 
cttiiia,  to  tr^  whether  your  Stomach  was  not  in  a  more 
healthy  State  than  your  Soul  and  Confcience.  You 
complained  lafl  Sunday,  that  the  Sermon  v/as  fo 
di{h'd  and  drefs'd,  that  you  could  not  relifli  it  ;  and 
tho'  you  confefs'd  theire  was  much  Truth  and  Duty 
contain'd  in  it,  yet  you  were  fo  difgufted  with  the 
Style  of  the  Preacher  and  his  aukward  Manner,  that 
you  went  away  fretting  at  the  Difcourfe,  and  received 
no  Profit  at  all ;  but  you  own  you  fed  heartily  upon 
the  Provifions  of  my  Table  to  Day,  nor  was  your 
Stomach  fo  fqueamifli  as  to  keep  your  Faft,  tho'  the 
Diflies  and  Garniture  were  inelegant  enough,  and 
very  much  a-kin  to  the  Sermon  you  defcribed.  Cri- 
tllk  took  the  Hint,  and  was  convinced  of  his  Folly, 
beg'd  Pardon  of  Placentia,  and  learnt  for  the  future  to 
attend  with  a  better  Spirit  on  pubHck  Worfliip  :  "For 
"  you  have  now  taught  me,  fays  he,  to  make  this 
«  Obfervation,  that  if  the  Soul  of  a  Chriftian  be 
"  found  in  a  healthy  State,    'twill  not  grow  peevifli 

«  and 


m  Prose  ^/^Verse.      ^83 

"  and  refufe  all  fpiritual  Food,  becaufe  it  is  not  fur- 
"  rounded  with  evcry  proper  and  modifh  Eleganco  in 
"  thc  difpenfing  of  it." 

B  u  T  this  is  but  one  Inflance  of  her  Prudence  and 
'Addrefs  in   feelaiming  Mankind  from  their  Follies  ; 
thofe  who    have  the  Happinefs  of  her  intimate  Ac- 
W  quaintance,  have  l)een  V/itncfTcs  to  many  fuch  Pieces 
©f  gentle  and  efFe<aual  Reproof.     A   plcafing  Serenity 
of  Soul  has  run  through  her  whole  Courfe  :    But  fome 
Years  ago,  when  Ihe  was  verging  towards  the  De- 
cline  of  Life,  (he  happened  for  feveral  Months  to- 
gether,  to  be  ruffled  and  teized  with  two  6r  tl)ree  un- 
bappy  Occurrenccs,  which  came   upon  her  at  once> 
and  gave  her  fo  rauch  Difquietude,  as  made  her  Car- 
riage  to  thofe  round  about  her  favour  a  little  of  the 
inward  Vexation.     She  was  foon  confcious  of  the  In- 
road  which  was  made  upon  her  Peace  and  her  gentle 
Virtues  ;  ihe  found  the  angry  Ferment  arife  too  often 
and  work  too  near  her  Heart  ;  fhe  gave  herfelf  many 
filent  Rebukes,  and  by  repeated  Prayer  and  a  religious 
Watchfulnefs,  fhe  fupprefs'd  the  growing  Evil,  and 
recover'd  her  native  Serenity.     Happy  thofe,    who  in 
fuch  an  Hour  of  Temptation  do  not  lofe  their  Tem- 
per  intirely,  beyond  all  Recovery.. 

S  H  E  is  now  far  advanced  in  Years,  and  the  Infir- 
jnities  which  tend  to  put  a  Pcriod  to  Life  are  growing 
upon  her  ;  yet  (he  is  not  ever  loading  the  Company 
with  her  Complaints,  nor  rcpeating  to  them  the  Hi- 
ilory  of  her  daily  Pains  and  Aches,  nor  does  fhe  often 

fpcak 


284        Mifcellaneous  Thoughfs, 

fpeak  of  them  even  amongft  her  Friends,  but  when  \V 
feems  necefTary  to  excufe  her  Inadlivity,  or  thc  Omif- 
fion  of  any  of  the  Duties  of  her  Place,  or  to  prevent 
too  much  £xpe£tation  from  her  under  her  prefent.In- 
capacity  and  Weaknefs.  "  What  can  I  get  (faye  flie) 
"  by  buzzing  all  my  Ails  into  the  Ears  of  my  Fricnds  ? 
"  I  fhall  but  render  myfelf  difagreeable  to  the  World, 
**  and  my  Coxnpany  more  unpleafant  to  tliofe  v^^hom 
**  I  love  j  and  vi^hen  I  have  talked  my  Difeafes  all 
*'  over  to  them,.  they  cannot  relieve  me  ;  tJierefore  I 
**  chufc  to  complain  in  fecret,  only  to  Him  vi^ho  can 
"  fend  Reliefj  or  give  me  a  compleat  and  joyful  Kelcafe. 

In  thc  long  Series  of  her  Life  (he  met  with  fcw 
Enemies,  and  thofe  have  chicfly  fprung  from  Envy  at 
her  Happinefs.  Even  while  fhe  has  been  fcattering 
her  BleiTmgs  among  Mankind,  fhe  has  now  and  then 
met  a  very  unmerited  Reproach  j  yet  Placcntia  has 
never  ceafed  her  kind  Offices  to  them,  but  travellcd 
on  ftill  in  the  Paths  of  Virtue  and  Goodnefs  with  a 
fublime  Difregard  of  their  Malice. 

^o  glides  the  Moon  along  th'  ethereal  Pkins, 
Brighfning  the  Midnight  World  ivith  filver  Blaze^  . 
And  great  infilent  Majefiy  difdains 
The  clamorous  Envy  ofthe  barking  Race  ; 
Tetjhiiies  upon  themfiill  with  generous  Light, 
While  Brutes  abufe  her  Beams  butto  dire^  tlmr  Spight: 

Philagatha,  a  Lady  of  Six  and  Twenty  Years  old, 
waa  prefent  while  this  bright  Charader  was  rehearfed ; 

fhe. 


in  Prose  and  Y-ek^y.,       %%^ 

fhe  had  been  the  Mother  of  three  Children,  and  was 
ftill  proceeding  j  fhe  was  fo  charm'd  with  the  many 
agreeable  Parts  of  fuch  a  Life,  that  fhe  refolved  if 
ever  fhe  had  another  Daughter,  it   fhould  be  named 

"Placeiitia. 


[LXIV.] 
Common  Qccurrences  moraliz^d, 

\  S  TJmphmi  qne  Evening  was  fitting  folitary  by 
the  Fire,  which  was  funk  low,  and  glimmering 
in  Afhes  ;  he  mus'd  on  the  Sorrows  that  furrounded 
Human  Nature,  and  befet  the  Spirits  that  dwell  in 
Flefh.  By  chance  he  caft  his  Eye  on  a  Worm  which 
was  lodged  on  the  fafer  End  of  a  fhort  Fire-Brand  ;  it 
feemed  very  uneafy  at  its  warm  Station,  writhing 
and  flretching  itfelf  every  way  for  Relief.  He 
watch'd  the  creeping  Creature  in  all  its  Motions  ;  I 
faw  it,  faid  he,  when  he  told  this  Incident  to  Phile- 
rvus,  I  faw  it  reach  forward,  and  there  it  met  the 
living  Coal ;  backward,  and  on  each  fide,  and  then 
it  touch'd  the  burning  Embers  ;  flill  flarting  from  the 
prefent  Torment,  it  retreated  and  flirunk  away  from 
every  Place  where  it  had  jufl  before  fought  a  Refuge, 
and  ftill  met  with  new  Difquietude  and  Pain. 

A  T  laft  I  obferv'd  (faid  he)  that  having  turned  on 
all  fidcs  in  vain,  it  liftcd  its  Head  upward,  and  rais'd 
its  Length  as  high  as  pofTjble  in  the  Air,  where  it 

found 


aS6        Mifcellaneous  Thonghts, 

found  nothing  to  annoy  it ;  but  the  chief  Part  of  tlie 
Body  ftill  lay  prone  on  the  Wood  ;  its  lower  or  worfer 
Half  hung  heavy  on  the  afpiring  Animal,  and  forbid 
its  Afcent.  How  happy  would  the  Worm  have  been, 
could  it  then  have  put  on  Wings  and  becorae  a  fiying 
Infecl  ! 

S  u  c  H  (faid  he)  is  the  Cafe  of  every  holy  Soul  on 
Earth  ;  'tisout  of  its  proper  Element,  like  theWorni 
lodg'd  amongft  hot  Embers,  The  uneafy  Spirit  is 
fometimes  ready  to  ftretch  its  Powcrs,  its  Defires  and 
Wiihes  on  evsry  fide,  to  find  Reft  and  Happinefs 
amongft  fenfible  Goods  :  But  thefe  Tiiings,  inftead  of 
fatisfying  its  nobler  Appetitcs,  rather  give  fome  new 
Pain,  Variety  of  Vexation,  and  everlafting  Difap- 
pointment.  The  Soul  finding  cvery  Experiment  vain, 
retiresand  fhrinks  backward  from  all  mortal  ObjeclS) 
and  being  touch'd  with  a  divine  Influence,  it  raifcs  it- 
felf  up  towards  Heaven  to  feek  its  God  :  But  the 
Flefli,  the  Body,  the  meaner  and  worfer  Half  of  the 
Man,  hangs  heavy,  and  drags  it  down  again,  that  it 
cannot  afcend  thither,  where  Reft  and  Eafe  are  only 
co  be  found. 

W  H  A  T  fhould  fuch  a  Soul  do  now,  but  pant  and 
long  hourly  for  a  Flight  to  the  upper  World,  and 
breathe  after  the  Moment  of  its  Releafe  ?  Wliat  fhould 
be  more  joyful  to  fuch  a  Spirit,  than  the  divine  and 
almighty  Summons  to  depart  from  Flefti  ?  O  BlefiTed 
Voice   from  Heaven  that  fhall  fayiio  it,  Come  up  hi- 

ther^ 


/^       /;/  P  R  o  s  E  and  V e  r  s  e.       iS 7 

ther  ;  and  in  the  fame  Inllant  fliall  break  olF  all  its 
Fetters,  give  it  the  Wings  of  an  Angel,  and  infpire 
it  with  doiible  Zeal  to  afcend. 

A  T  another  tiine,  faid  PhlJemus^  I  happen'd  to  be 
with  this  good  Man  when  he  was  walTcing  tlirougli  a 
Grove,  and  we  unperch'd  aSquirrel  and  a  Lark.  Tlie 
Squirrel  (faid  hej  leapcd  nimbly  from  Boughto  Bough, 
and  ran  round  half  tJ^e  Trees  of  the  Grove  to  fecure 
itfelf  j  but  the  Lark,  after  it  had  juft  try'd  a  Bough  or 
two,  took  Wing  upward,  and  we  faw  it  no  niore.  Juft 
fuch  is  the  Difference,  faid  Theophron^  between  a  Chri- 
ftian  and  a  Man  of  this  World.  When  the  Sons  of 
Earth  are  beat  off  from  one  mortal  Hope,  they  run 
ftill  to  others,  they  fcarch  round  arnong  all  the 
Creatures  to  find  Relief,  and  dwell  upon  earthly  Com- 
forts  ftill  ;  but  the  Soul  of  a  Chriftian,  unperched  from 
his  Reft  on  Earth,  flies  immediately  towards  Heaven, 
and  takes  its  Relief  ivl  the  upper  World  among  things 
that  are  invifible. 

W  H  E  N  Philemus  told  thefe  little  Occurrences  of 
'Theophron,  together  with  his  pious  Remarks  upon 
them,  PJdcIio  fat  fimpering  with  an  Air  of  Contempt 
till  the  Story  was  done,  and  then  burft  out  into 
a  loud  Laugh.  "  What,  fays  he,  is  the  old  Puritani- 
*'  cal  Agc  returned  again  ?  Muft  we  fpiritualize  the 
*'  Affairs  of  Larks,  and  Worms,  and  Squirrels,  and 
*'  learn  Religion  from  all  the  Triiles  in  Nature?  At 
**  Church  let  us  be  grave,  and  mind  the  Bufinefs  of 
'*  the  Church  j   but  let  us  not  fiJi  our  Chimney  wlth 

"  Lef- 


x8"8        Mifcellaneous  ThoughtSy 

'*  Leflbns  cf  Godlinefs,  nor  fadden  our  Fire-fide  wlth 

*'  Devotion  ;  let  us  never  be  fo  excefHvely  Religious  as 

■*'  to  makeTemples  of  the  Fields  and  the  Groves,  and 

*'  talk  of  God  and  Heaven  there. 

Philemus  could  hold  no  longer,  but  with  a  folemn 
and  fevere  Countenance,  gave  Bjdelio  a  juft  Rebuke. 
Muft  we  never  think  of  Heaven  but  at  Church  ?  I  fear 
we  fhall  then  banifh  Religion  out  of  the  World.    Hath 
not  the  blefled  God  given  us  Notices  of  himfelf  among 
all  the  Creatures,  and  muft  we  never  dare  to  take  no- 
tice  of  him  in  anyof  them,  left  we  be  out  of  the  Mode, 
and  ridiculed  as  unfafliionable  ?  Perifti    all  thefe  Fa- 
ftiions  of  an  ungodly  World,  which  would  thruft  Hea- 
ven  from  ourThoughts !  Let  the  Fafliion  of  our  Saviour 
obtain    among   us,  who   when   he  came  down  from 
God,  and   dwelt   among  Men,    from   e\'ery  Occur- 
rence  of  Life  took  occaflon  to  raife  the  Thoughts  of 
his  Hearers  to  Things  divine  and  heavenly  :    He  drew 
the  Leflbns  of  his  Gofpel  from  the  Fig-trte  and  the 
Muftani-Secd,  from  a  loji  Sheep  and  a  loiirifig  Sky,  and 
there  was  fcarce  any  Gccurrence  of  the  meaneft  kind 
whic  h  he  did  not  improve  to  holy  Purpofes ;  nor  does 
it  become  any  Man  who  wears  the  Name  of  a  Chri- 
jiian^  to  laugh  at  the  Praclice  of  his  Saviour,  or  to  for- 
bid  his  FoUowers  the  Imitation  of  fo  facred  an  Ex- 
ample. 


Herc 


in  Prose  ^«^Verse.       189 

Here  follow  fevcral 
'l)piCRAMs,    Inscriptions,   and  Y  k  a  g- 

M  E  N  T  S  ^  P  O  E  S  Y. 

p  E  R  H  A  PS  there  \s  no  Perfon  who  hath  amufed 
himfelf  with  Verfe  from  Fifteen  Years  old  to 
tyty,  but  hath  fometimes  writ  upon  low  and  common 
Themes,  or  mingled  Fragments  of  Poefy  on  more 
important  Subjeas  in  Profc,  and  when  Friends  havc 
been  innocently  entcrtained  with  thofe  little  Things, 
and  Copies  areonce  gone  abro?.d  into  the  World,  they 
^re  in  danger  of  being  publiflied  in  a  very  imperfed 
and  mangled  manner.  To  avoid  this,  it  is  better 
they  fliould  appear  as  they  are,  and  if  they  can  givc 
any  further  innocent  Amufement  to  young  Perfons  who 
delight  in  Verfe,  this  may  ferve  for  an  Apology  for 
theirPublication,  tho'  they  were  written  in  the  early 
Parts  of  Life,  efpecially  fnice  moft  of  them  bear  fonw 
divine  or  moral  Sentiment. 


LXV. 

Fragments  a/^Verse. 

I.  The  Preface  cf  a  Letter,  ivritten  Aujuft  1692. 

T7'RE  fmce  the  Morning  of  that  Day 

Which  bid  my  deareft  Friends  adieu, 
-And  rolling  Whcels  bore  me  away 
■Far  from  my  native  Town  and  you, 

O  E'f€ 


±^o         Mtfcellaneotts  Thoughts^ 

E're  fmce  I  loft  through  diftant  Place, 
T.he  Pleafures  of  a  Parent's  Facc, 
This  is  the  firft  whofe  Language  fues 
F-JH"  your  Releafe  from  waxcn  Bands  ; 
Lficlen  with  humble  Love  it  bows 
To  kifs  a  Welcome  from  your  Handi  : 
Accept  the  Duty  which  it  brings, 
Arid  pardon  its  dcl^ving  Wings. 

2.  The  Sun  in  EcUpfe,     To  H  o  r  a  t  i  o. 

DcarU. 

'TT  H  E  firft  Thought  which  I  glanc'd  upon  after  1 
^  had  fet  Pen  to  Paper,  was  the  Approach  of  ihe, 
Solar  Ecllpfe,  and  it  imprefs'd  me  with  fuch  Force, 
Jthat  I  was  conftrained  to  fpend  a  few  Lincs  to  drefs 
Ijp  a  fudden  Thought  on  that  Subjeit,  in  the  Strain 
which  we  learnt  not  many  Years  ago  among  the 
Heathen  Paets. 

N  O  W,  now  'tls  jufl:  At  Hand — — 

Now  the  bright  Sun  leaves  liis  Meridian  Stage, 

Kolls  down  the  Hill,  and  meets  his  Siller^s  Ragc  ; 

Her  gloomy  Wheels  fiill  at  his  Chariot  run, 

And  join  fierce  Combat  with  her  Brother  Sun. 

The  gentle  Monarch  of  the  Azure  Plaiji 

Still  paints  and  filvers  her  rebellious  Wain,  / 

And  Ihoots  his  wonted  Fires,  but  fhoots  his  Fires  inj 

[vain. 

Th* 


tn  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       29 i 

Th*  ungrateful  Planet  does  as  faft  requite 
Th'  o'reflowing  Meafures  of  her  borrow'd  Light      4. 
With  an  impetuous  Deluge  of  refiftlefs  Night.  j  _ 

His  flaming  Courfers  tofs  their  raging  Heads, 
And  heave  and  grapple  with  the  ftubborn  Shades  ; 
Their  Eyeballs  flafli,  their  brazen  Bellows  pufF, 
And  belch  ethereal  Fire  to  guard  the  Darknels  oir*; 
In  vain  tiieir  brazen  Lungs,   in  vain  their  Eyes, 
Night  fpreads  her  Banners  o're  the  wond'ring  Sicies, 

Say,  peaceful  Mufe,  what  Fur)'did  excite 
The  Kindred  Stars  to  this  prodigious  Fight  ? 
;.re  thefc  the  Rules  of  Nature  ?  Will  the  Skies 
Let  fuch  dark  Scenes  of  dreadful  Battle  rife  ? 
What  dirc  Events  hang  threat'ning  o're  the  Earth  ? 
■'iVhat  Plagues,  what  Wars,  juft  burfting  into  Birth  ? 
Now  for  his  teeming  Glebe  the  Ploughman  fears, 
Left  it  fliould  yield  a  Crop  of  Iron  Spears  : 
Shepherds  fee  Death  fpread  o're  the  fteecy  Down?, 
Monarchs  grow  pale,  and  tremble  for  their  Crowns ; 
Vain  Dreams  of  niortal  Weaknefs  i 

Awake,  Philofophy,  with  radiant  Eye, 
Who  fcarcheftall  that'sdeep,  and  all  that's  high; 
Awakc,  furvey  theSpheres,  explain  the  Laws 
Of  Heaven,  and  bring  to  Light  th'  Eternal  Caufc 
Of  prefcnt  Darknefs,  i^c, 

Southamptcn^ 
June  i6^S' 

O   z  3.  /« 


L 


:h<^%        Mifceilaneous  Tboughts, 

:3 .  Jn  a  L  E  T  T  E  R  to  M  A  R  I  N  D  A ,  fpeaUng  cm- 
.cerning  onr  hlejjld  Saviour. 

E  T  your  iinmortal  Thoughts  arife, 
Survey  him  crown'd  v^nth  every  Grace, 
J  E  s  u  s,  the  Wonder  of  the  Skies, 
'3^he  Great,  the  Meek,  the  Lovely  and  the  Wife, 
The  Joy  and  Glory  of  the  Place. 

Here  Angels  fix  their  gazing  Sight, 
Hcre  Saints,releas'd  from  Earth  and  Sin, 
Dwell  on  his  Face  divinely  bright, 
^opy  his  Beauties  with  intenfe  Deh'ght, 
And  with  advancing  Luftre  (hine. 


LXVL 

"Xhe  Infcriptions  on  feveral  fmaU^xtnch. 
Tiifnres,  tranfated. 

A  N  G  E  L  I  c  a  finging. 
-a  T7H  A  T,  Mufick  and  Devotion  too  ? 
'^V     Tpiiis  is  the  Bufmefs  Angek  do  : 
'^Vhen  Hearts  and  Hymns  and  Voicesjoiu, 
iit  .iTiakes  the  pleafant  Work  divine. 


■C  H  L  o  R  J  s  fringing  of  Pearh, 
rVirtue  and  Truth  in  Heart  and  Head, 
Which  teach  you  how  to  Acl  and  Speak, 
.Are  brighter  Pearls  than  thofe  you  thread, 
ffC.Hj.  0  E.  1 S3  to  tie  about  your  Neck. 

Ph  yl  li 


m  P  R  o  s  E  aftdY-E  r  s  e.       if^ 

P  H  Y  L  L  r  s  phying  u^uh  a  Pamf. 
U  Womeii  wjll  not  be  inclin'd 
To  feek  th'  Improvements  of  theMind, 
Bdicve  mc,  P  h  y  l  l  i  s,  for  'tis  true, 
Parrots  will  talk  as  well  as  you. 

CLAvmm  Ath£  Cook-Mdid»' 
The  €ook,  who  m  her  humble  Poft 
Piovides  the  FamiJy  with   Food, 
Fxcclh  thofe  empty  Dames  that  boaft 
Of  Charms  and  Lovers,  Birth  and  Blood. 

F  L  O  R  E  L  L  A  f.ngiflg  to  hcY  Hnrpi-- 
F  L  o  R  E  L  L  A  ftngs  and  plays  fo  Wcll, 
^VlHth  ihn  dath  tu'ft,  ig  )rtti'd  to  twll  i 
But  'tis  a  poor  Account  to  fay, 
AU  ihe  can  do  is  fmgand  play. 

Amaryllis  fpinning. 
O  what  a  pretty  Spinner's  here  ! 
How  fweet  her  Looks  !  how  neat  her  Linnen  f ,  . 
If  Love  and  Youth  came  both  to  fee  her,  ■       " 

Youth  wou'd  at  once  fet  Love  a  fpinning, 

D  o  R  I  N  D  A  fcwing, 
We  ftand  expos'd  to  every  Sin 
While  idle,  and  without  Employ  j 
But  Bufinefs  holds  our  Paf]^ons  in,.' 
And  keepi,  out  all  unlav/ful  Joy. 

<>    3  U  i-s 


^94        Mifcellaneous  Thonghts^ 

I  R  I  s  fiickling  three  Lap-Dogs, 
Fond  fooli/li  Woman  !  while  you  nurfe 

Thofe  Puppies  at  your  Breaft, 
your  Name  and  Credit  fares  the  worfe 

For  every  Drcp  they  tafte. 
I  R  I  s,  for  fliame,  thofe  Brutes  remove, 
Auu  better  learn  to  placeyour  Love. 

P  o  M  o  N  A  the  Marht  Maid, 
iTrtue  adorns  her  Soul  withln, 
Her  iiomely  Garb  is  eVer  elean  : 
Such  Inrtocencc  difdalnlng  Arfc 
Give^  Lovy  an  honyumbie  Dail. 


LXVII. 

Inscriptions  on  Dials, 

Written  on  a  Sun-Dial  in  a  Circle. 

CIC  petit  Oceanim  Phcebus^  ftc  Vita  Sepulchrum, 

Dwnfefiftm  tacitd  Volvitur  Hora  rotd  ; 
Secuh fc fjgient^  fic  Lux^  fc  Vmhra^  Theatrum 
Donec  fleUigerum  clauferit  una  Dies. 

Afterwards  turn^d  into  Englifh. 
T  H  u  s    fteal  the  filent  Hours  away, 
The  Sun  thus  haftes  to  reach  the  Sea, 
Ajid  Men  to  mingle  with  their  Clay, 


} 


Thus 


in  Prose  and  Verse.       295» 

Thus  Light  and  Shade  divlde  the  Year, 

Thus,  tili  the  laft  grcat  Day  appear,  T' 

And  fhut  the  ftarry  Theatre,  ?, 

Ofi  a  Cicrnig  Dial,  ufualfy  cM  a  Spot-Dia[,  made 
at  a  Wejhrn  Window^  at  Theobalds. 

1. 1 T  T  L  £    Sun    upon    th.e   Ciellng, 
■Ever   moving,  ever  fiealing 

Moments,  Minutes,  Hours  awa/y 
May  no  Shade  forbid  t\\y  Shining, ' 
While  the  heavenly  Sun  dechning 

Calls  us  to  in:prove  the  Dav. 

Amthcrfir  a  Spot^Dlal, 
Shinino  Spot,  but  gvei' flitling  1 
Brighteft  Hours  have  no  ablding  ; 
Vk  the  golden  Moments  wfll : 

Life  is  wafting, 

Death  is  hafting, 
Death  configns  to  Heaveft  or  Hell, 

A  N  o  T  H  E  R. 
S  E  E  the  little  Day-Star  moving  ; 
Lifc  aud  Time  are  worth  iniproving, 
Seize  tlie  Moments  while  tliey  ftay  j 

Seizc  and  ufe  thcm, 

Left  you  lofe  them, 
And  lament  the  waftcd  Day. 

C)  4  Cthfr 


^^6        Mtfcellanecusl^houghts.^ 

Other  M  o  T  T  o's   on  D  i  a  l  s. 

FESTINJT  Supnm&, 
Proxirna  non  nojira  eji. 

Vehimur  properantibus  Heris 
Jd  Coehm  mt  Erebum. 

Sic  imus  ad  Atria  Lucis 
Aut  Vmbras  Erebi, 


LXVIII. 
In  s  c  ri p ti o n  s  on  P  o  u r  t r  a  i t  s» 

Thf  Lin-s  u-uLr  Dr.  O  w  s  k';  Pii^urt, 
VVritten  by  himfclf. 

T  "^MB  RJ  refert  fragihs  dederint  quas  Cura  Dohrque: 

Relliquias,  Studiis  ajfiduufque  Labor. 
Meutem  humilcm  facri  feruantem  Limina  Veri 
Votis  fupplicibus  ^i  dedit,  iile  videt. 

Engliflied  t/?us, 

B  E  H  o  L  D   the   Shade  ;  the  frail  Remains 

Of  Sicknefs,  Cares,  and  ftudious  Pains. 

The  Mind  in  humble  Pofture  waits 

At  facred  Truth's  celeftial  Gates, 

And  keeps  thofe  Bounds  with  holy  Fear, 

While  He  who  gave  it,  fees  it  there. 

Varim,-^ 


i;/  Prose  ^//^  Verse.       2<?7 

Various  M  o  t  t  o's  for   an  E  f  f  i  g  y. 

I. 

7"^  O  tibi  Terra  qmd  Vfnhra  refert :  fatis  exhihet  TJmbra 
"^  ^cd  modo  Puhis  erat^  quod  eito  Pulvis  erit, 

Mens  donata  Deo  tupit  Immortalia^  Coelum 

Sufpicit^  Mthereis  affocianda  choris. 
Monflrat  iter  mihi  fola  Fides :  Amor  adjicit  alas  : 

Surgo :  lcvatricem,  Gratia,  tende  manum. 
NoXj  Error,  Dolor,  Ira,  Metus,  Caro,  Munde,  valeie  : 

Lux,  Fia,Fita,SaIus,omnia  CHRISTUS  erit, 

2,    • 

In  CHRISTO  meaVita  latet :  nua  Ghria  CHRISTUSt 
Hunc  Lingua,  hunc  Calamus  celebrat,  tiec  Imago  tacebit, 
IN  UNO  JESU  OMNIA. 

TfiC    nim' •  Z^ii-oi^,  ' AM^Vome   ci  uytijrif  ^ 

Scekiog  the  Things  above,  And  fpeaking  Truth  and  Love.' ' 

-£/?■  mihi  Chriftus  vivere,  ^  Lucrum  mori,  ■ 
5' 

6. 

Sic  levis  Umbra  Virum, "  Vir   Paulum,  Pauliis  Jefum 
Sequitur,  non  Affequilw\ 

O  5  LXIX. 


^9^        Mifcellaneous  ThoughfSy 

LXiX, 

Epigrams. 

1.    In  mirum   Maris   Meridionalis  Thefauri 
Incrementum,  Amw  1720. 

Ip XORTA  e  medio jam fortiter.  Aura pspella 
,      Spirat  in  Auftrales  fru^us  :  Argentea  Spuma 
Tollitur  in  montes ;  {miranduni)  atquc  Aurea  Regna 
Exurgunt  Ponto.     Circumfremit  undique  Turha 
Mercantum ,  in  Coelwn  afpirans :  Summa  aqmra  Nauia- 
Certatim  fcandunt,  dff  fe  mirantur  i?i  Ajiris  : 
^ifque  fibi  Diademafacit,  namplurimus  extat    - 
Croefus.     At  infidos,  O  qui  fapis,  Effuge  fluUus^ 
Ncc  iumida  credas  (licet  auro  Jplendeat)  U?ida, 
Ne  rspetas  miferum  per  mille  pericla  Profundum, 
Rex  hrezrs.     Heu  !  fmulac  fuhfderit  AurapopeHty 
Unda  iacet  j  montes  pereunt ;  evanida  Regna  j 
Nilfuherit  Spuma  7iifforte  marina  *  Vorago, 
*  Alii  legendum  vellent  Msrtimerina, 

2.  On  tbe  zv^ndrous  Rif,cftbe  S^utljnSeaStoc.iy  1720». 
'T  1«  s  faid,  the  Citizens  have  fold 
yaitli,  Truth  and  Trade,  for  South-Sea  Gold  j, 
*Tis  lalfe  :  for  thofe  that  know  can  fwear 

AIl  is  noi  Gcld  that  glifers  there. 

3.  J'-fgrI- 


/;/  Prose  and  Verse."      299^ 

3 .  Infcribendum  Maris  Meridionalis  Gazophylacioj 
five  Officinae. 

^UIS^IS  es,  hic  intra,  cui  crefcere  Niwvtiulus  ardef^ 
Cuive  Crumena  gravis  nimis  ejf  :  Hic  Gaza  paratur 
Ampla  magis,  fed  onufla  miuus ;  Centena  Taknta 
Auftrali  videas  citl  ter  triplicata  fuh  unda  j 
^od  gravitatis  abefi  numerum  fupplere  videbis. 
Hic  Bulla^  Fumus^  Rumcr^  Spes,  Lana  caprina, 
Nix  aftiva^  Umbra,  Phantafnata,  Somnia^  Vefiti^ 
Pnedia  in  Utopicis  regionibus,  Aurca  SpWJia^ 
Acriaq^  Arces  venduntur^  emunttir  in  hcras. 

vel  fi  breviorlnfcriptio  magis  arridef. 

— -  —  —  —  —  Non  omne  quod  hic  niicut  Aurum  r. . 

Apr.  6.   1720. 

4.    T*:?  Sabina    and  her_Companions  travelung  /■;- 
gether  to  fee  fne  Buildings  and  Gardens. 

TX7"Ff  11/  E  round  the  Gardcns  and  ti:ie  GrovcA 
YoLir  Foot,  your  Eyc,  your  Fancy  rovc<, 
With  flill  ncw  Forni?  of  Plcafure  ia  a  warm  Purfuirj 
Lct  every  Tree  yield  Knowlcdge  too, 
Safcr  than  that  in  Eden  grew, 
Wherc  your  own  Mother  Evc  f^jnd  Poifon  In  {he 

[Fruit. 
5-  Th: 


3eo.       Mtfcellaneotis  Thdtightsi, 


S.Thefame. 

O  o,  view  the  Dwellings  of  the  Great,  . 

The  fpacious  Court,  the  tow'rIng  Seat,  . 
The  Roofs  of  coftly  Form,  the  Fretrwork  and  the 

Mark  the  bright  Tap'fl:ry  Scenes,  and  fay,     [Gold  ^ 

Will  thefe  make  wrinkled  Age  decay,  . 

Or  warm  the  Cheek,  and  paint  it  gay,  . 
%\^hen  Death  fpreada  o'er  the  Face  her  frightful.Pale 

[and  Cold  l 

6.  The  fame, 

In  vain  you  featch  the  Verdant  Scenes,  ^ 

The  fhaded  Walks,  the  flow'ry  Greens, 
Tlie..Tree9  of  Golden  Fruit  for  what  can  ne'er  bc 

You  fearch  for  Blifs,  where  'twill  not  grow,  [^ouJ^d: 

There  is  no  Paradife  belovv', 
Sitice  Life  s  immortalTree  is  periih'd  fromlhe  Ground.. 


R 


7.  Ra  Tio,  F  I  DEs,  Char  I  t  a  s. 

EC  TA  Fidefn  Ratiojuvat :  Alma  Fides  Rationem  ; 
Scd  Ratio  atque  Fides  nilfne  Amore  juvant. . . 


I  D  E  M. 

EtLRdtio  Fidei  eft^  ^  amica  Fides  Raiioni : 
At  nihUamh  vakntfi  mihi.de ft  Amar, 


LXX, 


in  Frose  /2«J  Verse;       301 


LXX; 

E  P  I  T  A  P  H  S.  - 

i,-  Jn  I N s  c  R  I  p  T  I  o N •  5«  f2  Monumental  Sione  in 
Chefllint  Ckurch  in  Hertfordfhire,  .  In  Memory  of 
Thomas  Picard,  Efq-^  Citizen  of  London, 
who  dfdfuddenly,  Jan.  29.  A.  D.   1719.  ^^t.  50.  . 

A    Soul  prepar'd  needs  no  Delays, 

The  Summons  come,  the  Saint  obeys  : 
Swift  was  his  Flight,  and  fhort  the  Road, 
He  clos'd  his  Eyes,  and  faw  his   God. 
The  Fleih  refts  here  till  Jefus  come, 
And  claim  the  Treafure  from  the  Tomb.  . 


2.  On  the  Grave-Sione  of  Mr.  John  Ma  y,  a 
ycung  Student  in  Divinity,  vjho  dfd  after  a  Ungering 
and  painful  Sicknefs,  and  zvas  buried  w  Cheflunt 
Church-Tard  in  Hertfordfhire. 

O  O  fleep  the  Saints,  and  ceafe  to-groai», 

When  Sin  and  Death  have  done  their  worfl, 
Chrifl  hath  a  Glory  likc  his  own,   , 
W.hich  waits  to  cloathe  their  waking  Dufl.  - 


3.  WritUr^- 


303  "     Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts, 

3.  Wnttenfor  a  Grave-Stone  of  a  7iear  Relatm. 
T  N  Faith  fhe  dy'd  ;  in  Duft  fhe  lies  ; 
•*■  But  Faith  forefees  that  Duft  fhall  rife 
When  Jefus  calls,  while  Hope  afTumes, 
And  boafts  her  Joy  among  the  Tombs. 

Or  tbuSf 
B  E  N  E  A  T  H  this  Stone  Death's  Prifbner  lies, 
The  Stone  fliall  move,  the  Prifoner  rife, 
When  Jefus  with  Almighty  Word 
Calls  his  dead  Saints  to  meet  their  Lord. 

4.  To  the  Plous  Memory  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  S  a  m  u  e  t 
H  A  R  V  E  Y  of  London,  who  dicd  April  17.  1729. 
^tat.  30. 
He  ivas  a  Perfon  of  a  very  low  Staiure^  but  of  an  exceUent 
Spirit^  adorn\i  with  all  the  Graces  cf  a  Minifter  and  a 
Chrijlian  in  a  mojl  uncomtnon  Dcgrce.  His  Sicknejs 
was  a  f.ow  Fevcr  ;  hut  while  the  Diforder  was  upon 
himy  he  ventured  abroad^  according  to  a  Promife  madt 
fome  time  before,  and  his  Zcal  exhaiijled  all  his  Spiriis 
in  pious  and  profitable  Convcrfation  with  fome  youngcr 
Perfons  who  greatly  valwd  hisMiniJhy ;  in  afew  Days 
the  Dijltmper  prevaiV d  btjond'  the  Reach  and  Pcwer  of 
M^dicine. 

An  E  p  I  T  A  p  H. 
TT  E  R  E  lie  the  Ruins  of  a  lowly  Tent, 
-*■       Where  the  feraphick  Soul  of  H  a  r  v  e  y  fpent 
Its  mortal  Years,     How  did  his  Genius  fliine, 
Like  Heav6n's  bright  Envoy,  dad  in  Povvers  Divine ! 

Whcj). 


in  pROSE  and  Verse.       soz 

When  frora  his  Lips  the  Grace  or  Vengeance  broke, 
'Twas  Majefty  in  Arms,  'twas  melting  Mercy  fpoke, 
What  Worlds  of  Worth  lay  crowded  in  that  Breaft ! 
Too  ftrait  the  Manfion  for  th'  IUufti-ious  Gueft, 
Zeal,  hke  a  Flame  ftiot  from  the  Realms  of  Day, 
Aids  the  flow  Fever  to  confume  the  Clay, 
And  bears  the  Saint  up  through  the  ftarry  Road 
Triumphant.     So  Elijah  went  to  God. 
What  happy  Prophet  ftiall  his  Mantle  find, 
Heir  to  the  double  Portion  of  his  Mind  ? 

Sic  muja  jarn  veterafcenti 
Inter  jujViJJimoi  amiccrum  is"  Ecclefics 
Fletus-YhLxwdioJiw  parentat,        I.  W, 


5.    An   E  p  I  T  A  p  H   6H  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Matthew  Clarke. 

M.  S. 

In  hoc  Sepulchro  conditur 
Matth^us  Clarke, 
Fatris  venerandi  Filius  cognominis, 
nec   ipfe   miniis   vcmrandus : 
Literis  facris  ^  huma?iis 
a  prima   cctate  innutritus : 
Linguarum  fcientifjmius : 
In  munere  Condonatorio 

eximius^  operofus  <J  felix  ,* 
In  Officio   Pajiorali 
fidelis  is"  vigilans : 

luter 


304        Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts^  , 

Inter   Theohgorum   Dijftdia 

moderatus  &  pacificm  : 
Ad  omnia  Pietatis  munia 

promptus  femper  iff  alacris : 
Cdnjux,  Frater^  Pater,  AmicuSy 

inter  prcejlantiffimos : 
Erga  omnes  homitmm  ordines  ■ 
egregie  benevolus. 
^as  ver^o  innumeras  invi£la  Modeflia  dotes 
Celavity  tiec   Fama  profert^  nec  copia  fandi 
Efl  Tumulo  concejfa  :  Sed  olimMarmore  rupto 
Ofiendef  v:ntura   Dies  ;  Praconia  Cceli 
Narrabunt ;  Judex  agnofcet^  iff  Omnia  plaudent. 
Abi,  Viator,  ubicunq;  terrarum  fueris^ 
hac  audies. 
Natus  ejl  agro   LeiGeftrienfi,  A.  D.    1 664. 
O^wV  Londini.    27«^.  J/^  Martii,  1726. 
jEtat,  fiice   62. 
Multum  dile^us^  multum-  defideratus»  ■ 


/«  Englifli   thus. 

Sacred  tO   Me  m o R  y. 
In   this   Sepulclire   lies  buried 
Matthew  Gl  arke, 
A   Son  bearing   the   Name 
of  his  venerable  Father, 
nor  le(s  venerable  himfelf. 
Train'd  up  from  hi^  youngeft  Vears 
in  facred  and  human  Learning. 

Very 


/;/  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       sof 

Very  skilfiil  in  the  Languagss  : 

In  the  Gift  of  Preaching 
excellent,  laborious  and  fuccefsful  ; 

In  the  Paftoral  Office 
faithful  and  vfgilant  : 
Among  the  Controverfies  of  Divmes 
moderate  always  and  pacifick  ; 
Ever  ready  for  all  thc  Duties  of  Piety  : 
Among  Husbands,  Brothers,  Fathers,  Ffiends,- 
he  had  fevi'  Equals  : 
And  his  Carriage  toward  all  Mankind  was 
emincntly  benevolent. 
But  wliat  rich  Stores  of  Grace  lay  hid  behind 
The  Vail  of  Modefty,  no  huraan  Mind 
Gan  fearch,  no  Friend  declare,  nor  Fame  reveal,- 
Nor  hns  th.is  mo.Tnful  MarbL  power  to  tcU. 
Yjet  there*s  a  hall:'ning  Hour,  it  comes,  it  coniesj- 
To  rouze  the  fleeping  Dead,  to  burft  the  Tombs, 
And  fet  the  Saint  in  view.     AU  Eyes  behold  : 
While  the  vaft  Records  of  the  Skies  unroird, 
Rehearfe  his  Works,  and  fpread  his  Worth  abroad  ; 
Tiie  Judge  approves,  and  Heaven  and  Earth  applaud^, 
Go,  Traveller ;  and  wherefoe're. 

Thy  wand'ring  Feet  fliall  reft 
In  diftant  Lands,  thy  Ear  {hall  hear 
His  Name  pronounc'd  and  bleft. 

He  was  born  in  Lelceflerjhire^  in  the  Year  1 664.  , 
He  dy'd  at  Londsfiy  March  27.   1726. 

Aged  Sixty-two  Years,  , 
Much  bclovedy  and  much  lamcnted. , 

6i  An-^ 


Bo6        MlfcelUheoiis  Thoughfs^ 

6.  y//i  E  p  I  T  A  p  H  5«  the  Reveraid  Mr.  Ed- 

WARD    BroDH-URST. 

Hoc  Mdrmore  co^nmemoratur 
Vir   in  Sacris  ftipra  focioi  pcritm^ 
Nec  in  Literis  humanis  niinus  Sciens : 
Rebus  divinus  aprim&   cetate  dcditus^ 

Veritatis  Libere  fudiofus, 
Fidei  Chrifti-ana  flrenuus  affertor^ 
Et  Pietate  nulli  fecundus, 
Co7icionator  eximius, 
Ratione^  Suadela^  Eloquio  Potens^ 
Paflor  erga  Grcgem  fihi  commifjunl 
yigiK  i^  folMtiis  pefil'  fupra  modum  : 
Moribus  faciliSf  Vitd  bemfcus, 
Omnigena  Charitatis  Exempkr  i 
Mille  Virtutihus  irfru^us 
^as  facra  celavit  Modefiia  j 
Sed  non  ufque  celabuntur  : 
I  LcStor^  l^  expeSla  diem 
^d  Coelo  Terrifque  fimul  innotefcct 

^ualis  y  quantus  fuit 
Edvardus    Brodhurst, 
Agro   Derbienfi  «<7/«5  ^,  A.D.   1691. 
Birmingamias  defun£lus  Julii  die  zi.   1730, 
Animam  ad  fuperos  avolantem 
Ecckjia  militans  lugety 
Tnumphans  plaudity 
Sufcipit  Chriftus,  agnofcit  Deus, 
"  Euge,  fidelis  fervc." 


Done 


/;/  P  R  o  s  E  nnd  V  e  r  s  e  .       307 


Done  into  Englifh  ly  another  Hand. 

This  Marble  calls  to  our  Remembrancc 
A  Perfon  of  fuperior  Skill  in  Divinity, 
Nor  lefs  acquaintcd  with  human  Literaturc: 
Inclined  from  his  Infancy  to  Things  facred, 
An  impartial  Inquirer  after  Truth, 
An  able  Defender  of  the  Chriftian  Faith  j 
A  truly  Pious  and  Devout  Man  j 
A  Preacher  that  excelled 
In  Force  of  Reafon  and  Art  of  Perfuafion  ; 
A  Paftor  vlgilant  beyond  his  Strength, 

Over  tlie  Flock  committed  to  his  Chargc  j 
Of  courteous  Behaviour  and  beneficent  Life ; 
A  Pattern  of  Charity  in  all  its  Branches ; 
A  Man  adorn'd  with  many  Virtucs, 
Conceard  under  a  Veil  of  Modefty  ; 
But  fhal]  not  for  ever  be  conceaFd  ; 
Go,  Reader,  expedt  the  Day, 
When  Heaven  and  Earth  at  once  fhall  knoW 
How  deferving  a  Perfon 
Mr,  Edward  Brodhurst  was. 
He  was  born  in  Derbyfl>ire,   1691. 
T^y'd  zt  Birmingham^  July  zi.    1730, 
His  Soul  afcending  to  the  blcft  above, 

The  Church  on  Earth  bemoans, 
The  Church  Triumphant  congratulates, 
Is  received  by  Chrift,  approved  of  God  ; 
"  IVilldoney  good  andfaithfulSer-vantr 

The 


3'o8        Mtfcellaneous  Thotights^ 

7.  The  following  EpiTAPHon  Sir  Isaac- 
Newton,  was  compofed  by  my  worthy  Friend, 
Mr.  John  Eames,  wiiJi  a  few  Decorations'  added  at 
his  Requeft. 

HlC  Sepulm  efi 
ISAAGUS   NEWTONUS 

Bquei  curatus, 
Moribm  -vere  antiqtiis,  fanSiiJJimis  ; 
^ii  nec   inter  Atheos  D  e  i   Cultuni^ 
Nec  inter  Philofophos  C  h  r  i  s  t  i  FiJem  - 

Eruhuit. 
Ugenio  fupra'  horninem  fortem  fagaci^ 
Mnthefn  iminane  quantum  adauxit  ditmtqm^ 

NatWce,  quaqua  patet,  Motus  &  Vires 
Coelo,  Terra^  Mariq;  examuffm  dimsnfus  ej\i 
PerpUxos  vagantis  Luna  Circuitus 
Striltis  Cancellis  folus  ccercuit : 
Occanifiuentis  refuiq;  Leges  athereas 
Terricolis  notas  fecit ;. 
Temporifq;  Metas 
jfmultis  retro fgculis vagas  iff  erroneas 
Certis  AJirDrum  Periodis  alligavit,  fxitque: 
^iales  in  Semitas 
Vi  Gravitatis  fkSluntur  Cometa, 
Advena.,  projugi,  reduccfje^  vionjlravit. 
Pallidumque  eorum  Jubar 
BeneHcum  potius  quamferaky 

Plane- 


in  Prose  and  Verse.       309 

Phneticolis  exhibuit  optandum. 
Lucis  fimpUcii  ortum  multifermem^ 

Variegata  fimpiicem, 
'Colorum  fc.  miram  Theoriam 
Primiis  isf  petiitiis  espJoravit. 
Fidis  Experitnentis^  tionfi^is  Hypothefhus^  itmixus 

Scisntics  Humatia  Littiites, 
Ultra  quamfas  erat  Morfalibus  Jperare^ 
Proprio  Marte  protnovit, 
Pcjlerifque  uherius  promovendos 
Nojinim  fuper  ccthera  fcatidem 
Motiuit  k^  itidigitavit. 
Vale^  Coelefis  Atiittta, 
Seculi  Gentifque  tuce  Luitien  ing.ens 

Ac  itigens  Defderium^ 
Generis  Humani  Decus,  Vak. 


LXXI. 

The  Cadence  of  V  ekse. 

T  N  Writings  of  every  kind,  an  Author  fhould  be  fo- 
^  iicitous  fo  to  compofe  his  Work,  that  the  Ear  may 
be  able  to  take  in  all  die  Ideas,  as  well  as  the  Eye, 
and  to  convey  his  compleat  Senfe  to  the  Mind  v^'ith 
Eafe  and  Pleafure.  Since  every  Sentence  has  fomc 
Words  in  it  which  are  more  Emphatical  than  the  reft, 
and  upon  which  thc  Meaning,  the  Beauty,  the  Force 
and  thi  Pleafure  q[  the  Scntence  depend,  thc  Writer 

(hould 


3IO        Mijcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

{hould  take  great  care  that  the  Hearer  may  have  a  di- 
ftiiiguiihing  Preception  of  all  tliefe,  as  well  as  the 
Perfon  who  reads.  All  the  Parts  of  a  Sentencc, 
from  one  End  to  the  other,  are  not  to  be  pronounced 
with  the  fame  Tone  of  Voice  ;  fuch  a  conftant  Uni- 
formity  would  not  only  be  heavy  and  tirefome,  but  thc 
Hearer  would  never  bc  impreft  with  the  true  Senfe  of 
the  Pcriod,  unlefs  the  Voice  of  the  Reader  were 
changed  agreeably,  as  the  Senfe  and  Words  require, 
This  is  properly  called  the  Cadence, 

A  good  Cadence  in  Verfe,  is  much  the  fame  thing 
as  the  proper  and  graceful  Sound  of  a  Period  in  Piofe. 
This  arifes  partly  from  the  Harlhnefs  or  Softnefs  of 
the  Words,  and  the  happy  Difpofition  ofthem,  in  a 
fort  of  Harmony  with  the  Ideas  which  are  reprefented, 
partly  from  the  long  and  fhort  Accents  which  belong 
\q  the  Syllables  well  mingled,  and  partly  alfo  from  \ 
the  Length  and  Shortnefs  of  the  Sentences,  and  a 
proper  Situation  of  the  Paufes  or  Stops,  as  well  as 
from  putting  the  emphatical  Words  in  their  true 
Places.  AU  this  might  be  made  evident  in  a  Variety 
of  Inftances,  by  fhewing  how  obfcure  or  how  languid 
the  Senfe  fometimes  would  be  found,  if  the  proper 
Cadences  be  not  obferved  by  the  Writer  or  Reader  ; 
how  untrraceful,  how  unmufical,  and  even  oftenlive 
would  fome  Sentences  appear  in  Profe,  or  fome  Lincs 
in  Verfe,  if  harfti-founding  Words  were  put  when  the 
fofter  are  required,  if  Syllables  of  a  ftiort  Accent  were 
placed  in  the  room  of  long,  if  the  emphatical  Words 

or 


in  P R o s E  and  Verse.       311 

or  Paufes  were  difpofed  in  improper  Places  ?  Thc 
moft  bkilful  and  melodious  Reader,  with  his  utmoft 
Labour  and  Art  of  Pronunciation,  can  never  entertaiii 
a  judicjous  Auditory  agreeably,  if  the  Writer  has  not 
done  his  Part  in  this  refpea.  And  tho'  tliefe  Matters 
are  of  far  lefs  Importance  in  Poefy,  than  the  Proprie- 
ty,  Grandeur,  Beauty  itnd  Forcc  of  the  Ideas  and" 
the  elegant  Difpofition  of  them  ;  yet  the  late  Duke  of 
B.  m  his  famous  Efay  on  Poetry,  fuppofes  them  to  be 
of  fome  Neceffity  to  make  good  Wtx^t. 

KumberandKhynu^  and  that  harmonim  Sound 
IVhich  never  does  the  Ear  with  Harfintfs  wound, 
Are  ueceffary,  tho'  hut  vulgar  Arts, 

T  H  I  3  Theme  would  furnffli  fifKcient  Matter  fbr 
many  Pages  ;  but  upon  occafion  of  a  Qiieflion  put  to 
me  a  fcw  Days  ago  upon  tliis  Subject,  I  fhall  here 
take  Notice  only  of  thofe  vicioiis  Cadences  in  Ytxk^ 
whlch  arife  from  lcng  or  fliort  Syllables  ill  placed,  or 
from  Colons,  Comma's  and  Periods  ill  difpofed',  as 
faras  my  Amufements  in  Poefy  have  given  me  Inv 
Knowledge  of  this  kind. 

Tt  has  been  an  old  and  jufl  Obfervation,  that 
Englijh  Verfc  generally  eonfifts  of  lamhick  Y^^v  An 
Jamhuk  Foot  has  two  Syllables,  whereof  the  firft  is 
fl)ort,  and  the  latter  long.  An  EngltJ}>  Verfe  of  the 
Heroic  k.nd,  conf.fts  of  five  fuch  Feet,  fo  that  in 
reading  ,t,  the  Accent  is  ufually  laid  upon  the  zd,  4th, 
6th,  8th  and  i  oth  Syllables.  y^^ 


3  IX        Mrfcellaneous  ThoitghPs, 

Mr.  Dryden^  who  was  counted  the  beft  Verfifier  o'^ 
the  laftAge,  is  generally  very  true  to  this  Idmlid 
Meafiare,  and  obferves  it  perhaps  with  too  conftant  a 
regularity.  So  m  his  Vtrgil  he  defcribes  two  Serpejtt^s  \n 
Ten  Lines,  without  one  Foot  of  any  other  kind,  or 
the  Alteration  of  a  fingle  Syllable. 

Tivo  Serpents  rank\i  ahreajl,  the  Seas  divide, 
Andfmoothly  fweep  along  the  fwelling  Tide. 
Their  flaming  Crsjfs  ab6v$.tk£  IVaves  thcyfl^ow^ 
Thiir  Belliesfeem  t-o  burn  the  Seas  bekw  : 
Their  fpeckled  Tails  adzwue  to  Jleer  thcir  Courfe^ 
And  on  the  founding  Shore  the  flyiug  Billcws  foree. 
And  ncw  the  Strajid,  and  now  the  Plain  they  held^ 
Their  ardentEyes  with  hloody  Streaks  werefiWd; 
Tloeir  nimhle  Tongues  they  hrandijh\i  as  they  came, 
Aud  lick^d  their  hiffing  Jaws,  that  fputter^d  Flame. 

Tho'  all  thefe  ten  Lines  glide  on  fo  fmoothly,  and 
feem  to  carefs  the  Ear,  yet  perhaps  this  is  too  long  a 
Uniformity  to  be  truly  grateful,  unlefs  we  excufe  it  by 
fuppofing  the  Poet  to  imitate  the  Smoothnefs  of  the 
Serpents  fwift,  eafy  and  uniform  Motion  over  the  Sea 
and  Land,  without  the  leaft  Stop  or  Interruption. 

I  N  the  Lines  of  Heroic  Meafure,  there  are  fome 
Parts  of  the  Line  which  will  admit  a  Spondee,  that  is,  a 
Foot  made  of  two  long  Syllables ;  or  a  Trochee^  where 
tlie  iirft  Sjllable  is  iong,  and  the  latter  {hort :  A  happy 

Inter- 


in  Prose  andV "ek^z^  *     313 

Intermixture  of  thefe  will  pre\'ent  that  Samsnefs  of 
Tone  and  Ca<lence  which  is  t<;dious  and  painful  to  a 
judicious  Reader,  and  will  plcafc  the  Lar  with  a  great- 
er  Variety  of  Notes  -,  provided  ftill  that  the  lambick 
Sound  prevail.  And  here,  according  to  the  beft  Ob- 
fervation  I  can  make,  a  Spondce  may  be  placeU  in  thc 
firft,  fecond,  third,  fourth  or  fifth  Pkce.  But  a 
Trochce  ufually  finds  no  room,  except  in  the  firft  or 
third,  wJiere  they  are  fometimcs  placed  with  much 
Elegance  of  Sound. 

T  H  A  T  a  &ppnde£  may  be  ufed  in  any  Part  of  tl.e 
Verfe,  appears  from  this  Confideration,  thatTen  finglc 
Words  whicJi  are  all  of  long  Accents,  will  make  a 
Verfe,  tho'  not  a  very  graccful  one  : 

Bhie  SkifS  bokfair^  ivhile  Stars  flmt  Beams  like  Gold. 

S  o  that  ingenious  Mimick  Line  of  Mr.  Pope,  in, 
iiis  Art  of  Criticifm^ 

jyioere  Ten  kw  Words  creep  on  in  one  dull  Line. 

In  fuch  Verfe  every  Foot  may  be  a  SpcrJcCy  or  eveiy 
Syllable  in  the  Verfe  long. 

Trochees  are  frequentiy  ufed  for  the  firft  Foot.  This 
*ounds  very  agreeably,  as  in  the  firft  Line  of  the  fa- 
mous  Poem  called  the  Splendid  Shilling,  by  Mr.  Philips. 

Happy  the  Mmi  who  void  of  Care  and  Strife. 
And  fometimes,  tho'  not  often,  for  the  third  Foot  as 
well  as  the  fi.ft  :  Milton  dcfcribes  the  De\-ils, 

Hovering  on  PPhg,  under  the  Cope  ofHell, 

P  Thc 


5 14  MtfcellaneoiLs  Thoughts, 

-The  Words  Happy,  in  Philips,  and  Under  in  Miliaf^t 
are  both  Trcckes  ;  but  fcarce  any  other  Place  in  jhe 
Verfe,  befides  the  firft  and  thethird,  will  well  endure 
a  Trochee^  without  endangering  the  Harmony,  fpoihng 
the  Cadence  of  the  Verfe,  and  offending  the.Ear^ 

T  H  E  R  E  are  fome  Lines  in  our  old  Poets  faultjr 
-in  this  Particular,  us, 

.  None  thinh  Reivards  rendeyd  worthy  their  fVbrth, 
AndbothLovers,  both  thy  Difciples  luere.      Davenant, 

V/here  TVorl^iy  in  the  fourth  Placc,  and  Lovers  in  the 
fecond,  are  very  unharmonious,  and  turn  the  Line  in- 
Xo  perfe6l  Profe.  Perhaps  there  may  be  fome  Placei 
*found  in  Milton^s  "Works,  where  he  has  not  been  fo 
/lice  an  Obferver  of  this  Matter  ;  *  but  'tis  granted, 
even  by  his  Admirers,  that  his  Numbers  are  not  al- 
ways  fo  accurate  and  tuneful  as  they  Ihould  be  ;  he  has 
indeed  too  much  neglc6led  this  Part  of  Poefy,  tho'  he 
has  in  many  Places  recompenfed  the  Pains  of  the 
Reader's  Ear  by  the  Pleafure  he  gives  in  the  Dignity 
and  Sublimity  of  the  Senfe,  as  well  as  by  the  rich  Va.- 
/lety  of  his  Cadences,  which  are  moft  times  juft  and 
gracefuj. 

Here  let  it  be  obferved,  that  where  double 
^Bhimes  are  ufed,  there  indeed  a  Trochee  comes  laft  j 

*  Yet  it  «r/7V  be  allow^cU  ibat  upn  a  fpecial  Occaf.on,  /t 
Trochee  is  fouiid  in  the  fourth  ?lace  not  utterly  dijagreeable  in 
jylilton'/ /*ffm. 

but 


iu  pROSE  and  VerSe.       315- 

bat  it  is  not  defigncd  tliere  to  be  a  Foot  of  the  Verfc' 
for  it  ftands  only  in  tlie  Place  of  the  laft  Syllablc 
which  is  ahvays  long,  and  the  iliort  Syllable  following 
is  but  a  fort  of  fuperfluous  Turn  or  Flourifh  added  to 
'the  laft  long  Syllable,  as  in  Drydenh  Ahfolojn^  Sic. 

Then  aUfar  TVomen,  Painting,  RJjyming,  Drinhngy^ 
Beftdes  ien  Thoufand  Freaks  that  dfd  in  Thinking. 

Note^  Thefe  Trochees^  inftead  of  the  laft  long  Sylla- 
ble,  are  very  feldom  admitted  in  grave  Poems  in 
Hhime,  but  only  for  Burlefque  and  P.idicule,  as  in  the 
Lines  now  cited  ;  nor  doth  Milton  much  ufc  them  in 
his  BlankVerfe,  tho'  they  are  frequently  ufed  in  Blank. 
Verfe  by  more  modern  Writers,  and  eipecialiy  in  Dra- 
matick  Poefy. 

Mr.  Tope,  as  wcll  as  Mr.  Dryden,  are  more  careful 
jn  their  Numbers,  and  never  indulge  fuch  irregular 
Licence,  cxcept  where  they  defign  fomething  comi- 
cal ;  yet  there  is  one  Inftanc-e  in  Mr.  Popeh  Tranfla- 
tion  of  Homer,  wherein  he  has  introduccd  a  Trochee  for 
the  fourth  Foot,  but  'tis  with  a  beautiful  Litent,  and 
v/ith  equal  Succefs,  when  he  reprefents  a  Chariots  nn- 
even  Motion  in  a  rugged  Way  by  the  abrupt  Caden- 
ces  and  rugged  Sound  of  his  Verfe. 

fumping  high  o^re  the  Routs  of  the  rough  Gmind^ 
Rattled  the  clattering  Carrs^  and  thefjock^dJxles  bound, 

In  the  firft  of  thefe  Lines  there  is  but  one  lamhick^ 
(viz.)  xXi^  Routs  \  thc  reft  are  Spondees -znd  Trochees  <^ 
and  particularly  thc  two  Trochees^  (viz.)  Juuiping,  anJ. 

P  z  cf 


31^        MifcellaneousThoughts, 

of  the  are  infertecl  in  the  firfl  and  fourth  Places,  to 
make  the  Verfe  the  rougher.  The  Tranfpofition  of 
tlie  clatterwg  Cmrs,  which  is  the  Nominative  Cafe  af- 
ter  the  Verb  rattled,  adds  fomething  fasther  to  the 
graceful  Confufion  which  arifcs  in  tlie  Verfe  from 
the  jumbUng  Idea  which  the  Poet  defcribes. 

Thus  much  for  the  Cadence  of  Verfe,  as  it  depends 
Mpon  Jong  and  fljort  Sjllables. 

*'  Thui  much  indeed  (fays  Cenforio,  who  read  thefe 
**  five  or  fix  Pages)  and  a  great  deal  too  much  for  any 
**  Man  to  write  upon  thcfe  Trifles,  whofc  Profeflion 
"  calls  him  to  facred  Studies." 

^'^miOt  who  delighted  to  read  divine  Poems,  took 
up  the  Caufe,  and  forbid  the  Reprover.  Are  all 
Verfe  (faid  he)  profane  Things  ?  If  fo,  how  will  tJie 
Royal  Pfalmi/i  efcape  ?  But  if  Verfe  may  lawfully  be 
written,  .there  mult  be  fome  Knowledge  of  the  Rules 
of  it,  and  fome  Acquaintaince  with  the  Elegance  of 
Sound  as  well  as  Senfe.  The  chearful  and  pious  Half- 
hours,  which  have  been  fpent  in  the  Clofet  ai  well  as 
in  the  Church,  by  the  help  of  dcvout  Poefy,  give  too 
much  Encouragemeut  to  this  Art,  to  have  it  for  ever 
forbidden  to  Chriflians. 

B  E  s  I D  E  s,  if  Verfe  were  but  a  mere  Recreation, 
may  not  a  Life  devoted  to  divine  Offices  be  indulged 
in  fome  fort  of  Amufement  in  this  animal  and  feeble 

Stat«, 


/V/  P R  o s E  and  Verse.        317 

State,  to  divert  a  heavy  Hour,  and  relieve  the  Mind  a 
little,  when  fatigued  with  intenfe  Labours  of  a  fupc- 
rior  Kind  ?  Was  the  Charailer  of  that  fpiritual  Man, 
the  Archbifhop  oi  Camlray,  ever  thought  to  be  tar- 
ni{h'd  by  his  Epiftolary  Converfe  v/ith  De  la  Motte  the 
French  Poet,  on  fuch  Subjefts  as  thefe  ?  Go  honie, 
Cenforio,  and  fubdue  your  fnarling  Humour;  or  learn 
to  employ  your  Reproofs  with  more  Juftice.  Ft  r 
my  part,  I  will  proceed  to  gratlfy  myfelf  in  readlni^ 
thenext  four  or  five  Pages  too  ;  tho'  I  find  by  the  Ti- 
tle,  that  the  Argument  is  much  the  fame. 


tmamMimim^iasmmamem 


Lxxir. 

Of  the  different  Stofs  and  Cadences 
in  Blank  Verse. 

TVyf  R.  Myton  is  efteemed  the  Parent  and  Author  cf 
Blank  Verfe  amongft  us  ;  he  has  given  us  a 
noble  Fxample  of  It  in  his  incomparable  Poem  caird 
Paradife  Lofi^  and  has  recommended  it  to  the  World 
in  his  Preface.  There  he  aflures  us,  that  true  Mufua^ 
Delight  does  not  conffi  in  Rhyme ,  cr  thefingling  Scund 
of  like  Endings,  hut  only  in  apt  NumherSy  fit  ^antity  cf 
SyllahkSy  and  the  Senfe  varioufy  drawn  out  from  one  Verfe 
into  another.  Yet  however  the  Sentence  be  often 
Ijrolonged   beyond  the  End  of  tke  Line,  tliis  does  by 

P  3  no 


3iS         Mifiellaneous  Thoughts-^ 

no  means  imply  that  no  Verfe  fhould  have  a  Period  at 
fche  End  of  it,  for  that  wouU  be  running  out  of  one 
Extreme  into  another,  and  by  avoiding  one  Error  ta 
fall  into  a  worfe,  as  I  fliaJl  makc  appear  in  what  fol- 
lows. 

W  H  E  R  E  Rhyme  Is  ufed,  there  has  too  generally. 
been  placed  a  Colm  or  a  Period  at  the  End  of  every 
Couplet,  tho'  without  Neccffity  ^  and  thus  the  whole 
Poem  ufually  runs  on  in  the  fame  Pace  with  fuch  a 
perpetual  Return  of  the  fame  fort  of  Numbers  and  the 
fame  Cadences  and  Paufes,  that  the  conftant  Unifor- 
mity  has  grown  tirefome  and  offenfive  to  every  muft- 
cal  Ear,  and  is  contrary  to  the  Rules  of  true  Harmo-- 
«y,  according  to  that  known  Remark  of  Horace^ 

Ridetur  Cborda  quifemper  oberrat  eadem, 

But  it  does  not  follow  from  this  Obfervation,  that 
Blank  Verfe  fhould  abandon  all  CoUin  and  Periods  at 
the  End  of  the  Lines  ;  but  only  that  they  fhould  be 
difpofed  of  with  Care  and  Judgment  in  a  greater  Va- 
riety  through  feveral  Parts  of  the  Line,  as  well  as  at 
the  End  of  it.  This  will  aflift  the  Poet  in  forming 
true  Harmony,  and  in  making  his  different  Numbers 
and  the  different  Cadences  of  the  Verfe  appear  more 
various  and  grateful  ;  it  will  conflrain  the  Reader  to 
give  difFerent  Refls  to  his  Voice,  and  thus  take  away 
that  dull  Uniformity  of  Sound  which  too  often  over- 
fpreads  a  Poem  writ  m  Rhyme. , 

Now 


zn 


pROSE  and  Verse.       519 


Now  theie  Paufes  In  the  Senfc,  and  confequent- 
]y  thefe  Rcfts  in  the  Voic?;,  fliould  be  judicioufly  flxed 
through  all  the  Parts  of  the  Verfe  orLine  in  fuch  a 
manner,  that  no  one  fort  of  Paufe  or  Cadencc  fhould 
return  too  often  and  ofFend  the  Ear  j  and  this  may  be 
happily  performed  in  fome  Meafure  in  Verfe  with- 
Rhyme,  tho'  not  fo  well  as  where  there  is  none.  *  To- 
render  Blank  Verfe  more  perfeil  in  this  Kind,  whaf 
if  one  fhould  propofe  the  foUowing  Rulcs  ? 

I.  SixcE  thcre  are  ten  Syllables  In  a  Line  of 
H^rcic  Meafure,  it  follows  that  thert  are  ten  Places 
where  the  Senfe  may  hc  finifli'd,  and  a  Stop  may  be 
p!aced  j  and  thercfoie  if  we  would  obfcrvc  any  thlng 
of  Proportion,  there  {houkl  be  at  lcaft  a  Colcn  or- 
P^rbd  at  theEnd  of  one  Line  in  ten  ;  but  perhaps  the 
Eafe  and  Reft  of  the  Ear,  the  proper  Partition  of  the 
Verfes  one  from  another,  and  the  Diftindion  of 
Poefy  from  Profe,  would  requirc  it  rather  a  httle  more 
frequent.  This  Mllton  himfelf  has  by  no  means  ob- 
ferved,  but  has  fometimes  drawn  ont  hh  Senfe  from  ont 
Verfe  into  another^  as  he  exprefles  it,  to  fuch  a  Length,  - 
as  to  run  on  for  fixteen  or  twenty  Lines  together^ 
v/ithout  fo  large  a  Stop  as  a  Semicohn  at  the  End  of  a 
Line  i  and  in  many  Places  there  is  not  fo  imich  as  a 

*  In  Verfe  with  Rhime,  CuJ}o?n  has  almojt  maJe  it  necfjfary  ' 
that  there  JJ:9uld  be  viore  Colons  and  Periods  difpoi^d  at  tke 
End  ^  Couplet»,    tban  BlankVerje  Jlands  in  need  of,  whick 
ki:ozi.'s  no  DiJliniiioH  of  Couplets,  nor  anj  Jm  of  Scanzas. 

P  4  dmm^ 


320        MifcellaneousThoughts^ 

£Gmma  for  four  or  fi\'e  Lines  fucce/Tivcly,  or  fometimes 
for  fix  or  feven.  There  are  fo  many  Inftances  of  this 
in  his  Work,  that  I  need  not  point  to  any  particular 
Page. 

2.  T  H  o'  thcre  are  ten  Places  in  a  Line  wherein 
the  Senfe  may  end,  or  a  ftrong  Stop  may  be  fixed, 
yct  I  think  a  very  ftrong  Stop  fhould  fcarce  ever  be 
placed  at  the  firft  Syllab.'e,  or  the  Ninth,  without  fome 
very  extraordinary  Reafon  forit  ;  the  Gracefulnefs  of 
Sound  will  hardly  admit  it  ;  it  feems  too  abrupt,  un- 
kfs  fome  peculiar  Beauty  in  the  Senfe  is  fuppofed  to  b* 
exprefs'd  thereby. 

3.  Two  Lines  fhould  not  very  cften  come  to- 
gether,  where  the  Stop  is  placed  at  the  fame  Syllable 
of  the  Llne,  whether  it  be  Comma^  Colon^  or  Perhd  j 
three  Lines  \'ery  feldom,  and  four  never :  for  this 
v/ould  bring  in  that  unpleafing  Uniformity,  which  it 
is  the  Defign  and  Glory  of  Blank  Verfe  to  avoid» 
This  Milton  feems  to  have  obferved  almoil  every 
whsre  with  great  Care. 

4.  W  H  E  R  E  there  is  a  very  ftrong  Period,  or 
the  End  of  a  Paragraph,  there  the  Line  ftiould  gene- 
rally  end  with  the  Senfe  j  and  an  intire  new  Scene,  or 
Epifode,    ought  generally  to  begin  a  new  Line. 

5.  T  H  E  End  of  a  Line  demands  always  fome 
fmall  Paufe  of  half  a  Ccmma  in  the  Reading,  whether 
there  be  any  in  the  Senfe  or  no,  that  hereby  the  Ear 

of 


m  P  R  o  s  E  and  V  e  r  s  e.       311 

of  the  Hearer  may  obtain  a  plain  and  diftinfl  Idea  of 
the  feveril  Verfes,  which  the  Eye  of  the  Reader  re- 
ceives  by  looking  on  the  Book :  And  for  this  Reafoii 
a  Line  fliould  never  end  with  a  Word  which  is  (o 
clofely  conneded  in  Grammar  with  the  Word  follow- 
ing,  that  it  requires  a  continued  Voice  to  unite  them ; 
therefore  an  Adjedive  ought  fcarce  ever  to  be  divided 
from  its  Subftantive  ;  yet  may  I  venture  to  fay  Miltm 
has  done  it  too  often  ?  As  Book  VIII.  Line  5,  6,  iii 
two  Verfes  together, 

TP7?at  Tkanks  fufficienty  or  tvhat  Recomfeme 

Equal  have  I  to  render  theey  divine 

Hijiorian  ? 
And  in  Book  IX.  Line  44. 
• unlefs  an  Age  too  Jat-e^  or  cold 

Climaiey  or  Years  d<mp  my  intended  JVmg. 

Book  VII.  Line  373.  fpeaking  of  the  Sun, 

Jnrcejied  with  hright  Rays,  focond  to  run 

His  Longitude  tJni'  Heaven^s  high  Road :  the  grey 

Dawn  cnd  the  Pleiadcs  lefore  him  datiCd,- 
It  muft  be  confefs'd,  where  fomc  important  Adjedlivc 
of  two  or  more  Syllables  follows  the  Subftantive,  it 
may  be  much  better  omitted,  as  Book  VII.  Line  194, 

Girt  with  Omnipotence,  zvith  Radiance  crowiCd 

Of  Majejly  divine^  Sapience  and  Love 

Jmm.enjey  and  all  his  Father  in  him-Jhdne. 
And  Book  IV.  Line  844. 

Sofpake  the  ChenSy  andhis  grave  Rebtikey 

Sevcre  in  youtJful  Beauty^  addcd  Gracs 

hvincille,  P  5  W!itTc 


3 IX        MifeellaneousThoughis^ 

Where  the  Adjedlive  has  any  thing  dependent  upon  it, . 
then  it  may  be  very  elegantly  divided  from  the  Sub- 
ftantive,  and  begin  a  new  Line,    as  in  the  midmoft  of . 
the  three  laft  cited,  Severe  inyouthful  Beauty. . 

Mihon  has  alfo  fometimes  feparated  other  Words  at; 
the  End  of  a  Line,  which  Nature,  and  Grammar, . 
and  Mufick  feem  to  unite  too  nearly  for  fuch  a  Sepa-  - 
ration  5  as  Book  IV.  Line  25. 

Nozv  Confcience  wah^  the  bitter  Memory 
Of  what  he  was^  what  is,  and  what  mufl  he 
Worfi  y  ofworfe  Deedj  worfe  fuffering  mufl  enfiu^ 

Book.Vin.  Line  419. 

— •  --w  — —  Noneed  that  thou..  ^ 

ShouId'Ji  Propagate^  already  Infinite. 

^Biook  VI.  Line  452. 

—  — . —  —  yet  har^.i 

For  Gods,  and  too  unequal  JVorkwefind,  _ 

Again,  /^.  462. , 

ButPain  isperfe^  Mife^Ji  the  worjl ; 
Of  Evils. 

A  N  D  you  may  find  a  Number  of  Inftances  of  this-c 
Kind  in  this  great  Poet,  wiiereby  he  has  fometimes  . 
reduced  his  Verfe  toO  much  into  a  Profaick  Form.  . 
Whether  this  was  Negligence  or  Defign  in  the  Poet,  , 
is  hard  to  fay  ;  but  'tis  evident  that  by  this  unreafona- 
We  Run  of  the  Seufe  out  of  one  Line  Into  another, 
and  by  his  too  frequent  .avoiding  not  only  Colons  and  . 

PerJGdSy 


i«  pRoSE  and  Verse.       3^3^ 

Periods,  but  even  Convna^s  at  the  End  of  the  Line,  it 
becomes  hardly  poffible  for  the  Ear  to  diftinguifh  ali  ■ 
thc  Ends  and   Beginnings  of  his  Verfes  j  nor  is  the  ' 
Reader  able  to  obferve  fuch  Accents  and  fuch  Paufes  • 
as  may  give  and  maintain  fufficient  Diftindion.  Now 
if  the  Beginnihg  and  Ending  of  every  Verfe  is  not  di- 
flinguifh'd  by  the  Hearer,  it  difrers  too  little  from  a 
fort  of  Poetieal  Profe, 


LXXIIL 

ji  dying  Worldy  and  a  durable  Heaven. 

VjT/OULD  one  think    it  pofTible   for  the  Sons  ■ 

and  Daughters  of  Adam^  who  fee  all  Things 
round  them  upon  the  Face  of  the  Earth  in  perifliing  and  -■ 
dying  Circumflances,  to   fpeak  and  adl,  and  hve  as  • 
tho'  they  fhould  never  die  ?  The  ^^^(?/^Z'/(?  World  with-'- 
all  its  Beauties  feems  to  pafs  under  a  fpreading  Death  ■ 
every  Year  j  the  Glory  of  the  Field,  the  Forcfl,  ancl 
the  Garden  perifli.      Aidmal  Nature  is  born  to  die  and  • 
mingle  with   its   original  Dufl ;  not  the  Strength  of' 
Beafls,  the  Oxe,  or  tlic  Lyon,  can  refifl  their  Fate  > 
nor  the  Fowl  of  the  fwiftcfl  Wing  efcape  it  j  nor  can 
the  Nations  of  Infeds  hide  from  it  in  their  dark  Holes 
and  Caverns,  where  they  feck  to  prolong  tiieir  littlc  Be- 
ings,  and  keep  the  vital  Atoms  together  through  tbi«  • 

chAns^inor 


3 14        Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts, 

clianging  Seafcns.  Our  own  Flefh  and  Blood  is 
much  of  the  fame  Make,  'tis  borrow'd  from  the 
fame  Materials  as  theirs,  it  has  a  fimilar  Compo- 
fition,  and  Sinhas  mingled  many  more  Difeafes  in  our 
Frame,  than  are  known  to  the  ve^etable  or  brutal 
Kinds.  We  fee  our  Anceftors  go  befpre  us  to  the 
Grave,  and  yet  we  live  as  tho'  we  (hould  never  fol- 
low  them.  We  behold  our  Neighbours  carried  away 
from  the  midft  of  us  daily  to  their  Beds  of  Earth,  and 
yet  we  are  as  thoughtlefs  of  this  awflil  and  important 
Hour,  as  tho'  our  own  Turn  would  never  come.  Let 
us  furvey  Mankind  a  little  :  How  are  all  their  Tribes 
e;Tiploy'd  ?  What  is  the  Grand  Bufinefs  of  Life  ? 
Are  not  all  their  Powers  of  Flefh  and  Mind  devoted 
to  the  Purpofes  of  this  poor  fhort  mortal  Period,  as 
tho'  there  were  nothing  to  fucceed  it  ?  And-yet  if  we 
ask  thofe  who  dwell  around  us  in  our  Nation,  Do 
you  not  belie^e  a  Heaven  and  an  Etcrnity  of  Happi- 
nefs  for  thofe  who  feek  it  fincerely,  and  labour  for  it  ? 
They  confefs  this  Divine  Truth  by  the  Force  of  Rea- 
fon  and  Confcience,  and  by  the  Light  of  Scripturc  ; 
but  they  forget  it  in  a  few  Moments,  and  return  ta 
their  Follies  again,  and  v/ith  a  greedy  and  inceflant 
Delire  they  repeat  the  Purfuit  of  perifhing  Vani- 
ties. 

O  that  we  could  biit  keep  ourfelves  awake  a-while 
from  the  intoxicating  Pleafuresand  Cares  of  this  Life, 
and  fhake  ofFall  thefe  Golden  Dreams  that  perpetually 
iuircund  our  Farxy  !  wefhculd  then  furely  employ  our 

Bobler 


nobkr  Powers  to  a  diviner  Purpofe  :  If  we  did  but 
dwell  a  little  with  a  Fixation  of  Thought  upon  thc 
Scenes  of  Death  all  around  us  here  on  Earth,  and  if 
we  now  and  then  furvey'd  the  vifible  Heavens,  therr 
Bri2;htnefs  and  their  Duration,  we  might  perhnps  be 
put  in  mind  of  thofe  momcntous  Truths  which  might 
direCl  our  Conduca,  might  wean  us  from  our  Fond- 
nefs  of  thefe  fenfible  and  perifhing  Trifles,  and  ani- 
mate  us  in  good  earneft  to  purfue  the  durable  Glories 
of  Heaven.  A  Walk  through  a  Church-yard  by  Sun 
or  Star-light,  would  afFord  fuch  a  Meditation  as  this. 

A  L  L  born  on  Earth  muft  die.  DeftruAion  reigns 
Round  thc  whole  Globe,  and  changes  all  its  Scenes. 
Time  brufties  oftour  Livcs  with  fweeping  Wing  : 
But  Heavcn  defies  its  Power.     There  Angels  fmg 
Immortal.     To  that  World  direil  thy  Sight, 
My  Soul,  ethereal-born,  and  thither  aim  thy  Flight ; 
There  Virtue  finds  Reward  ;  eternal  Joy, 
Unknown  on  Earth,  fhall  the  full  Soul  emplor. 
Tliis  Glebe  of  Death  we  tread,  thefe  fliining  Skia<;, 
Hold  out  the  moral  Leftbns  toour  Eyes. 
The  Sun  ftill  travels  his  illuftrious  Round, 
While  Ages  bury  Ages  under  Ground  : 
While  Heroes  fink  forgotten  in  their  Urns, 
Still  Phofphor*  glitters,  and  ftill  Sirius*  burns. 
Light  reigns  thro'  Worlds  above,  and  Life  with  all  her 

Yet  Man  lies  groveling  on  the  Earth,        [Springs ; 

The  Soul  forgets  its  heavenly  Birth, 
Nor  mourns  her  Exilc  thence,  nor  homeward  tries  het 

[Wings, 

*  77jc  Morning-Star  W/-^v  Dog-Star. 


2i6        Mtfcellaneous  Thoughts, 

Thus  far  with  regard  to  the  Bulk  of  Mankind, 
whofe  Souls  are  immeifed  in  Flefh  and  Blood,  who 
mind  none  but  earthly  Things,  whofe  God  is  this 
World,  and  whofe  End  is  Deftru(Sion  :  But  'tis  a 
melancholy  Thing  alfo  to  confider,  that  where  a  di- 
vine  Ray  from  above  has  penetrated  the  Heart,  has 
begun  to  operate  a  heavenly  Temper,  and  to  kirulle  a 
new  Life  in  the  Soul,  and  fet  it  a  breathing  after 
eternal  Things  ;  'tis  flill  afliamed  to  make  this  new 
Life  appear,  and  this  divine  Ray  difcover  itfelf ; 
'tis  afhamed  tfe  fliine  hke  a  Son  of  God  in  fuch  a  dark 
and  vicious  World,  amongfl:  Men  of  degenerate 
Minds,  who  have  an  Averfion  to  all  that  is  holy  and 
heavenly.  We  would  fain  be  always  in  the  Mode,  and 
are  afraid  to  be  look'd  at  in  the  Drefs  of  Piety  among 
Thoufands  whofe  Negledl  of  God  have  flamp'd  the  Fa- 
ftiion.  Are  there  not  feveral  fuch  Chrijliam  amongfl: 
us  who  dare  not  open  their  Lips  in  the  Language  of 
Paradlfe,  nor  let  the  World  know  they  belong  to  Hea- 
ven,  till  Death  and  the  invifible  State  are  brought  near 
them,  and  fet  in  full  View  by  fome  fevere  Sicknefs  or 
fome  terrible  Accident  which  threaten  their  Removal 
hence  ?  'Tis  a  near  View  of  the  Grave  and  Eternity, 
that  fubdues  all  other  Paffions  into  Devotion,  that 
makes  them  begin  to  fpeak  and  a6i  publickly  like  the 
Children  of  God,  and  gives  them  a  facred  Fortitude, 
a  blefled  Superiority  of  Soul  over  all  their  foolifli  Fearsj 
jiud  all  the  Reproaches  of  flnful  Men. 

.I..WH£N 


tn 


pROSE  <7;/^  Verse.       327 


I. 

TT7  H  EN  Death and  everlafting  Thing^; 

'  '  Approach  and  flrike  the  Sight, 

The  Soul  unfolds  itfelf,  and  brings 
Its  hidden  Thoughts  to  Light.  . 

II.  . 
The  filent  .Chriftian  fpeaks  for  God, 

With  Courage  owns  his  Name, 
And  fpreads  the  Saviour's  Grace  abroad  ; 

The  Zeal  fubdues  theShame.. 

III. 
Lbrd,  fhall  my  Soul  again  conceal  - 

Her  Faith,  if  Death  retire  r 
Shall  Shame  fubdue  the  lively  Zeal,  , 

Aiid  quench  th'  ethereal  Fire  ? 

IV.  . 

O  may  my  Thoughts  for  ever  keep 

The  Grave  and  Hcaven  in  view,  ^ 

Left  if  my  Zeal  and  Courage  ileep, 
My  Lips  grow  filent  too. ! 


tXXIV. 


5^8         Mifcellatieous  Thoughts^ 


LXXIV. 

The  Revuards  of  P  o  E  s  y. 
Damon,   Thalia,    Urania. 

D  A  M  O  N. 

■\yrUSE,  'tis  enough  that  in  thy  Fairy  Bow'rs 

My  Youth  has  loft  a  thoufand  fprightly  Hours, 
Attending  thy  Vagaries,  in  Purfuit 
Of  painted  Blofroms  or  enchanted  Fruit : 
Forbear  to  teize  my  riper  Age  :  'Tis  hard 
To  be  a  Slave  fo  long,  and  find  fo  fmall  Reward. 

Thal  I  a. 
M  A  N,  'tis  enough  that  in  the  Books  of  Fame,   > 
On  brazen  Leaves  the  Mufe  fhall  write  thy  Nanie,  ^ 
Illuftrious  as  her  own,  and  make  thy  Years  the  fame.^ 
Fame  with  her  filver  Trump  (hall  fpread  the  Sound 
Of  Damon's  Verfe,  wide  as  the  diftant  Bound 
0(  Britijh  Empire,  orthe  World's  vaft  Round. 
I  fee,  I  fee  from  far  the  falling  Oars, 
And  fl}ing  Salls  that  bear  to  JFeJl.rn  Shores 
Thy  {hining  Name  ;  it  (hoots  from  Sea  to  Sea  ; 
P^nvy  purfues,  but  faints  amidft  the  Way. 
In  Vifion  my  prophetic  Tube  defcries  7 

Behind  five  Hundred  Years  new  Ages  rife,  ^ 

Who  read  tby  Works  with  Rapture  in  their  Eyes.    ^ 

Citles 


tn  Prose  ^WVerse.       52,9 

Cities  unbuilt  fhall  blefs  the  Lyric  Bard, 

0  glorious  Memory  !  O  immenfe  Reward  ! 

Da  m  o  n. 
A  H  flattering  Mufe  !  how  fruitlefs  and  how  fair 
Thefe  vifionary  Scenes  and  founding  Air  ? 
Fruitlefs  and  ^'ain  to  me  !  Can  noify  Breath, 
Or  Fame*^s  loud  Trumpct  reach  the  Courts  of  Death? 

1  ihall  be  ftretchM  upon  my  Earthy  Bed, 
Unthinkmg  Duft,  nor  know  the  Honours  paid 
To  my  furviving  Song.     ThaHa^  fay, 

Have  I  no  more  to  hope  ?  Haft  thou  no  nxore  to  pay  ? 

T  H  A  L  I  A. 

S  A  y,  what  had  liorace^  what  had  Homer  raorc, 
My  favourite  Sons,  wiiom  Men  almoft  adore, 
And  Youth  in  learned  Ranks  for  ever  fings, 
While  perii}i'd  Heroes  and  forgotten  Kings 
Have  loft  their  Names?  'Tis  foveraign  Wit  hasbought 
This  deathlefsGIory  :  This  the  Wife  have  thought 
Prodigious  Recompence.  .—  -—  — 

D  A  M  o  N. 

Prodigious  Fools, 

To  think  the  Hum  and  Buz  of  paltry  Schools, 
And  aukward  Tones  of  Boys  are  Prizes  meet 
For  Ruman  Harmony  and  Grecian  Wit ! 
Rifc  from  thy  long  Repofe,  old  Homa-'s  Ghofl  ! 
Horace  arife  !  Are  thefe  the  Palms  you  boaft 
For  your  victorious  Verfe?  Great  Poets,  tell, 
Can  Eccho's  of  a  Name  reward  you  well 

For 


330        Mlfcellaneous  Th oughts'^ 

For  Labours  fo  fublime  ?  Or  have  you  found 
Praife  make  your  Slumbers  fweeter  in  the  Ground?" 

Thalia.  *■ 

Y  E  s,  thclr  fweet  Slumbers,  guaixled  by  my  Winj, 
Are  luird  and  foften'd  by  th''  eternal  Spring 
Of  btibbling  PraifesUom  th'  Amiati  Hill, 
Whofe  branching  Streams  divide  a  filverRill 
To  every  kindred  Urn  :  And  thine  fliall  fliare 
TheCe  ptirling  Bkffings  under  hallowM  Air  : 
The  Pceti  Dresms  in  Death  are  iTill  the  Mufe's  Care."^ 

D  A  M  o  N. 
O  NC E,  thou  fair  Tempter  cf  my  heedlefs  Youth, 
Once  and  by  Chance  thy  Tropes  have  hit  the  Truth» 
Praife  is  but  empty  //;>,   a  purii/ig  Stream  : 
Pcets  are  paid  with  Bubbles  m  a  Dream, 
Haft  thou  no  Songs  to  entertain  thy  Dead  ? 
No  Phantom-Lights  to  glimmer  round  my  Shade  ? 

T  H  A  L  I  A. 

B  E  L  I  E  V  E  me,  Mortal,  where  thy  Relicks  fleep^ 
My  Nightingales  fliall  tunefiil  Vigils  keep, 
And  chear  thy  filentTomb:    The  Glow-worm  fliin»- 
With  Evening  Lamp,  to  mark  which  Earth  is  thine : 
While  Midnight  Fairies  tripping  round  thy  Bed, 
Colledl  a  Moon-beam  Glory  for  thy  Head. 
Fair  Hyacinths  thy  Hillock  fliall  adorn, 
And  living  Ivy  creep  about  thy  Urn  : 
SweetVioletsfcenttheGround  j  whileLaurds  throw^ 
Thcir  leafy  Shade  o're  the  green  Turf  below,  / 

And  borrow  Lafe  from  Thee  to  crown  fome  Prophet's  r 

[Brow.  J 
D  A  M  o  K^ 


' 


in  P  R  o  s  E  and  Verse.       331 

D  A  MON. 

M  u  s  E,  th)'  laft  Bleflings  fink  below  the  firft  ;    ^ 
Ah  wretched  Trifier  !  To  array  my  Duft        rjuft  [> 
In  thy  green  flow'ry  Forms,  and  think  the  Payment^ 
Poor  is  my  Gain  fliould  Nations  join  to  praife  j 
And  now  muft  chirping  Birds  reward  my  Lays  ? 
What !   fhall  the  Travels  of  my  Soul  be  paid 
With  Glow-worm  Light^  and  v/ith  a  Leafy  Shadey. 
Violets  and  creepf/g  Ivys  F  Is  this  AIl 
The  Mufe  can  promife,  or  the  Poet  call 

His  glorious  Hope  and  Joy  ? — 

Are  thcfe  the  Honours  of  xhy  favourite  Sm, 

To  havetheir  Flefti,  their  Limbs,  their  mouldringBoneo 

Fatten  the  Glebe  to  make  a  L(:urel  grow, 

Which  the  foul  Carcafs  of  a  Dog  might  do, 

Or  any  vile  Manure  ?  Away,  be  gone  ; 

Tempt  me  no  more :  I  now  renounce  thy  Throne  ; 

My  Indignation  fwells.     Here,  fetch  me  Fire, 

Bring  me  my  Odes,  the  Labours  of  the  Lyre  ; 

I  doom  them  all  to  Afhes.  -— 

Ur  A  N  I  A. 
Rash  Man,  reftrain  thy  Wrath,  thefeOdesarerainci., 
Small  is  thy  Right  in  Gifts  fo  much  divine. 
Was  it  thy  Skill  that  to  a  Saviour's  Name  ^ 

Strung  David's  Harp,  and  drew  th'  illuftrious  ThemeC 
From  fmoaking  Altars  and  a  bleeding  Lamb  ?   '        S 
Who  form'd  thy  founding  ShcII?  who  fix'd  the  Strlngs,. 
Or  taught  thy  Hand  to  play  eternal  Things  ? 
Was't  not  my  Aid  that  rais'd  thy  Notcs-  fo  high  ? 
And.they  muft  live  till  Time.and  Nature  die, , 

Here 


3321        MifcelUneous  Thoughts^ 

Here  Heaven  and  Vlrtue  reign  :  Here  Joy  and  Love'^ 
Tune  the  retir'd  Devotion  of  the  Grove,  y. 

And  train  up  Mortals  for  the  Thrones  above.  N 

Sinners  fliall  ftart,   and  flruck  with  Dread  divine 
Shrink  from  the  Vengeance  of  fonie  flaming  Line, 
Shall  melt  in  trickling  Woes  for  P'ollies  paft  j. 
Yet  all  amidfl:  their  piercing  Sorrows  tafte 
The  Swcets  of  pious  Hope  :  Emnianuers  Blood 
FIows  in  the  Verfe,  and  feals  the  Pardon  good. 
Salvation  triumphs  here,  and  heals  the  Smart 
Of  wounded  Confcience  and  a  breaklng  Heart. 
Youth  fliall  learnTemprance  from  thefehallow'd  Stritins 
Shall  bind  their  PafTions  in  harmonious  Chains  j 
And  Virgins  learn  to  love  with  cautious  Fear, 
Nor  Virtue  needs  her  Guard  of  Blufties  here. 
Matrons  grown  reverend  in  their  filver  Hairs, 
SQOth  the  fad  Memory  of  their  anclent  Cares 
With  thefe  foft  Hymns  j  while  on  theirtrembling  Knce 
Sits  their  young  Offspring  of  the  fourth  Degree 
With  lift'ning  Wonder,  till  thelr  Infant-Tongue 
Stammers  and  lifps,  and  learns  th'  immortal  Song, 
And  lays  up  the  fair  Leflbn  to  repeat 
To  the  fourth  diftant  Age,  when  fitting  round  their 

[Feet. 

Each  Heaven-born  Heart  fhall  chufea  favouriteOde 
To  bear  their  Morning-Homage  to  their  God, 
And  pay  their  Nightly  Vows.  Thefe  facred  Themes 
Infpire  the  Pillow  with  ethereal  Dreams ; 
And  oft  amidft  the  Burdens  of  the  Day 
Sorae  devout  Couplet  wings  the  Soul  away, 

For- 


m  Prose  and  Verse.       353 

Forgctful  of  this  Globe  :  Adieu,  tlie  Cares  'l 

Of  mortal  Lifc  I  Adieu,  the  Sins,  tl^e  Snares  !         > 
She  tallcs  with  Angels  and  walks  o're  the  Stars,  j 

Amidft  tli'  exalted  Rapturcs  of  the  Lyre,  ^ 

0're-wheh-n'd  with  BHfs,  fliall  aged  Saints  expire,    > 
And  mix  their  Notes  atonce  with  fomeccleftial  Choir.^ 

D  A  M  o  N. 
What  holy  Sounds  arethefe  ?  WhatStrainsdivine  ? 
Is  it  thy  Voice,  O  bleft  f/r^/w,  thine  ? 
Enough  :  I  claim  no  more.     My  Toils  are  paid, 
My  Midnight  Lamp,  and  my^o're-labour'd  Head, 
My  early  Sighs  for  thy  propitious  Powcr, 
And  my  wing'd  Zeal  to  feize  the  Lyric  Hour  : 
Thy  Words  reward  them  all.     And  when  I  die, 
May  the  Great  Ruler  of  the  rolling  Sky  / 

Give  thy  Predictions  Birth,  with  BleiTings  from  hisT 
I  lay  my  Flefli  to  refl:,  with  Heart  refign'd       [Eye.  ^ 
And  fmiling  Hope.     Arifc,  my  deathlefs  Mind, 
Afcend,  v/here  all  the  blifsful  Paflions  flow  "^ 

In  fweeter  Numbers :  And  let  Mortals  know,  ^ 

Urania  leaves  thefe  Odes  to  chear  their  TolIs  below.  S 


LXXV 


554        Mijcellaneous  Tlooughts^ 


LXXV 

A  Moral  Argument  to  prove  the  Ka- 
tural  Immortality  ofthe  S  o  u  l. 

'T^  H  E  great  God  has  manifefted  aftonifliing  Wif- 
dom  in  the  Works  of  his  Creation,  contriving, 
'forming  and  endowing  every  Creature  with  Powers  and 
Properties  faitable  to  tbe  ^arious  Purpofes  of  its  de- 
fign'd  Exiftence,  and  of  his  own  Government. 

G  o  D  has  given  to  his  Creature  Man,  an  Under- 
llanding  and  Will,  and  various  Powers  whereby  he  is 
caoable  of  knowing,  loving,  and  ferving  his  Maker ; 
hy  thefe  fiime  Powers  he  alfo  becomes  capable  ef 
xiifhonouring,  afFronting  and  blafpheming  him. 

M  A  N  is  form'd  alfo  with  a  Power  or  Capacity  of 
receiving  Recompences  according  to  his  Work,  /.  e. 
Pleafure  and  Happinefs,  according  to  his  Obedience, 
or  Punifhment  and  Mifery  if  he  difobey  :  And  the 
great  God,  as  a  righteous  Governor  of  the  World,  has 
thought  fit  to  affign  Happinefs  to  Virtue,  and  Mifery 
to  Vice,  as  a  Reward  or  Recompence  of  good  or  cvil 
A£lions, 

Mak 


in  Trose  and  Verse.       335" 

M  A  N  is  alfo  created  with  a  Power  to  deflroy  hig 
own  animal  Life,  as  well  as  the  animal  Life  of  his 
Fellow  Creatures. 

N  o  w  if  a  Man  be  never  fo  plous,  and  has  no  fur- 
viving  Spirit,  no  confcious  Pcwcr  remaining  after  this 
animal  Life  be  deftroy'd,  God  cannot  certainly  re- 
ward  him  according  to  the  Courfe  of  Nature,  becaufe  a 
wicked  Man  may  put  a  fpeedy  End  to  the  a^iimal 
Life  of  the  Righteous,  by  Sword  or  Club,  and  thus  J:e 
may  infolently  forbid  or  prevent  all  God's  rewarding 
Goodnefs  and  Juftice,  with  regard  to  that  righteous 
Man. 

Or  if  a  Man  be  never  fo  viclous,  if  hc  blafpheme 
and  infult  his  Maker  with  never  fo  much  Indignity, 
and  commit  all  Outrages  poflible  againft  his  Neigh- 
bours,  yet  God  cannot  punifti  bim  for  fuch  aggrava- 
ting  Guilt,  acco  ding  to  the  Courfe  of  Nature,  if  he  has 
no  furviving  Spirit,  no  confcious  Power  remaining  be- 
yond  this  anlmal  Life  ;  for  by  the  Sword,  Halter  or 
Poifon,  he  may  put  a  fpeedy  End  to  his  own  animal 
Life,  and  to  all  his  Confcioufnefs  and  Being,  and  to 
all  Power  of  fuffering  Punifhment. 

B  u  T  furely  the  All-wife  God  would  never  form 
Creatures  of  fuch  a  Nature  and  with  fuch  Powers,  as 
that  they  might  infolently  prevcnt  his  governing  Ju- 
ftice  from  diftributing  Rewards  and  Puniftiments  ac- 
cording   to  their  Works  i  he   would   never   make  a 

Creaturc 


336         Mifcellaneous  Tboughts, 

Creature  capable  of  breaking  his  Laws  and  infulting 
his  Authority,  and  then  defying  his  Maker  to  punifh 
him  ;  a  Creature  who  might  do  Outragc  to  his  Crea- 
tor,  and  yet  have  Powcr  to  «fcape  beyond  the  Rcach 
of  his  avenging  Hand.  This  would  bc  fucli  a  Piece  of 
Condudt  as  would  tcmpt  one  to  fufpe<3:  great  Weak- 
refs  in  the  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  World  ; 
which  God  forbid. 

P  E  R  H  A  p  s  it  may  be  faid  here,  that  God  can 
find  a  Way  to  reward  or  punifli,  by  raifing  his  Crea- 
tures  again  from  the  Dead  to  a  more  iirm  and  durable 
Life. 

To  this  I  anfwer  two  Ways. 

Firji^  I  F  the  thinking  Spirit  in  Man,  or  thc  con- 
fcious  Principle,  be  intirely  extinguifh'd  at  the  Death 
of  the  Body,  the  Refurre<5lion  of  Man  to  a  new  Con- 
fcioufnefs,  is  the  Creation  of  a  new  confcious  Being, 
and^  it  is  not  the  fame  confcious  Being  wliich  once 
mcrited  Reward  or  Punifhment  ;  and  where  would  bc 
the  Juftice  of  fuch  Punifhm-ents  or  Rewards  ?  'Tis 
poflible  indeed,  that  Almighty  Powcr  might  make  a 
New  confcious  Being  which  fhould  fuppofe  itfelf  to 
remember  Things  done  in  a  former  State,  before  it 
had  any  Exiftence  ;  but  this  would  be  properly  a  falfe 
Apprehenfion,  an  Error,  and  not  real  Memory  of 
what  was  done  before,  and  would  lay  no  juft  Founda- 
tion  for  the  Rccompences  of  Vicc  or  Virtue. 

Secondlyy 


//7.  T  R  o  s  E  and  Y  e  r  s  k.       337 

Secoudly^  T  h  i  s  vcry  Refurredtion  mufi  be  a  Mi- 
Tacle,  a  fupernatural  Exercife.  of  divine  Power,  in 
"Contradidtion  to  the  Laws  of  Nature,  and  not  ac- 
cording  to  the  Courfe  of  Nature.  Novv  is  it  not  hard 
to  fay,  and  very  unreafonableto  fuppofe,  that  God  has 
fo  co;itrrv'd  tlie  Nature  of  his  Creature  Man,  that 
tho*  he  be  capaLle  of  high  Degree?^  pf  ^ihue,  pr 
of  mofl:  infolent  and  horrid  Vices,  j^et  rucorditigto  il)e 
'Cmirfc  :f  Nature  he  cannot  efFccluall)-  and  certainly  re- 
'ward  or  punifh  him  ;  or  that  the  wife  Creator  and 
rigliteous  Governor  of  the  Univerfe  cannot  effeclually 
and  certalhly  diftribute  the  Recocpences  bf  Virtue  and 
Vice  without  a  Miracle  ? 

U  p  o  y  the  Whole,  doth  it  not  evidently  follow 
from  this  Argument,  that  fmce  God  is  a  wife  Creator 
and  Governor  of  ths  World,  fmce  Man  is  capabie  0? 
voluntary  Vic-e  ot  Virtue,  and  confequently  of  deierv- 
ing  Rewards  or  Punifliments,  there  is,  and  there  fliufl- 
■be  fome  living  confcious  Principle  in  Man  which  may 
be  natiiraUy  capahle  of  Rewards  and  Punifhments,  an- 
fwerable  to  h«  Behaviour  ?  That  fhere  is  a  Soul  irt 
Man  which  furvives  his  animal  Life,  and  is  Lnmortal, 
Avhich  cannot  put  an  End  to  its  ov/n  Life  and  Con- 
fcioufncfs,  nor  to  the  Life  and  Confcioufnefs  of  it-; 
fellow  Souls  ?  And  by  this  natural  Immortality  of  tJic 
Soul  it  comes  to  pafs,  that  it  is  not  in  the  Powef  of  a 
wicked  Man  to  prevent  thc  Rewards  of  the  Righteou% 
nor  to  convey  hirafelf  out  of  the  Reach  of  his  r^Ia- 
ker's  Vengeance. 


J38       Mlfcellaneous  Thoughts, 


A  N  D  may  it  not  be  hence  inferrM  in  theyfr/?Place, 
that  the  Soul  of  Man  is  fo  immortal,  that  it  is  not  in 
the  Power  of  any  mere  Creature  to  kill  it  ?  For  it 
doth  not  feem  fit  that  the  great  Lord  of  the  Univerfe 
fhould  give  the  Prerogative  of  Rewards  and  Puniih- 
ments  fo  £ir  out  of  his  own  Hand,  as  to  put  it  intirely 
into  the  Power  of  a  Creature,  to  defraud  the  Righte- 
ous  of  their  Rcward,  or  fecure  the  Wicked  from  due 
"Punifliment.  It  is  fit  that  God  only  who  gave  Life 
and  Being,  and  Confcioufnefs  to  the  Soul,  fhould  be 
ablc  to  dcftroy  it,  or  take  away  its  Confciou&wfs,  or 
/nake  it  ceafe  to  be. 

M  A  Y  we  not  alfo  infer  yet  farther,  in  thc  fecond 
Place,  that  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  the  Sleep  of  the 
Soul  j  or  at  leaft  that  neither  the  Soul  itfelf,  nor  any 
other  Creature  can  put  thc  Soul  into  a  fleeping  State  ? 
For  this  is  a  State  without  Perception  or  Confciouf- 
nefs  ;  and  if  this  could  be  done,  then  tlie  defignM  Re- 
wards  and  Puniftiments  of  divine  Juftice  might  be  as 
eSeftually  difappointcd  by  Creatures,  as  if  they  could 
kiU  or  annihilate  the  Soul. 

P  E  R  H  A  p  s  you  will  here  fay  alfo  that  thc  SouJ 
may  be  awakened  again  by  Divine  Power  to  receive 
Puniftiments  or  Rewards.  To  this  I  anfwer,  that  if 
jthe  Soul  is  laid  to  Sleep,  or  finks  into  an  infcnfi- 
He  State  when  the  animal  Body  dies,  will  it  ever  a- 
wake  again  of  itfelf  naturally  ;o  be  punifh'd  or  rc- 

warded ; 


/V/  Prose  and  Verse.       33^ 

warded  j  or   can   any  Creature  awaken  it  ?    If  not,  • 
then  God  alone,   who   works  fupernaturaUy,  can  a- 
waken  it :    And  thus  in  thc  Order  of  Nature  there  \% 
no  Capacity  in  this  Soul  to  be  punifh'd  or  rewarded» 
nor  can  it  be  done  without  a  Miracle. 

I  T  H  I  N  K.  therefore  we  may  draw  this  Conclu^ 
fion,  {viz.)  that  every  intelligent  Being,  as  it  is  made 
capable  of  Virtue  and  Vice,  of  Rewards  and  Puniih- 
ments,  fo  it  muft  neceflarily  be  made  immortal  in  its 
own  Nature,  and  hath  ftxch  an  eflential  and  perpetual 
Confcioufnefs  belonging  to  it,  as  is  not  in  the  Power 
of  Creatures  either  to  ftupify  or  to  deftroy,  leaft  the 
Recompences  of  Vice  andVirtue  be  wrefted  out  of  the 
Hands  of  God,  as  the  God  of  Nature,  the  wife 
Creator,  and  the  righteous  Governor  of  ali  intelligent 
Creatures. 

A  N  D  may  wc  not  draw  a  third  Inference  alfo, 
(wz.)  that  the  mere  Death  of  the  Body  is  not  the 
only  Punifhment  of  the  Sin  of  Man  againft  the  God 
of  Nature,  and  againft  the  Natural  Law  ;  for  then 
the  worft  of  Criminals,  by  a  Dofe  of  Opiura,  or  a 
Halter,  might  finifli  his  Punifliment  at  once,  he  might 
convey  himfelf  away  from  the  Reach  of  Puniftiing 
Juftice,  and  the  Crimes  of  Men  could  not  be  punifh- 
ed  in  Proportion  to  their  Aggravations  ?  'Tis  the  Im- 
mortality  of  the  Soul  that  lays  the  Foundation  of  diffe- 
rent  Degrees  of  Punifhment  according  to  Crimes. 

Q.?  After 


340"       Mifcellaneous  ThoughtSy 

A  F  T  E  R  all,  perhaps  fome  Perfons  may  raifc  an- 
ether  Objc^ion  againft  niy  Argument,  (viz.)  if  there 
&e  fixh  fufficient  Provifion  in  the  vcry  Nature  of  Man 
after  Death,  to  recelve  the  due  Rewards  of  Virtue  or 
Vice  in  his  imraortal  Part,  or  his  SouT,'  what  Necef- 
fity  is  ihere  of  a  Refurredlon  of  the  Body  ?  And  yet 
we  find  that  in  the  New  Teftament,  where  the  invi- 
fible  Wcrld  and  future  State  of  Rewards  and  Punifti- 
jr.ents  is  moft  particularly  difcovered,  the  holy  Wri- 
ters  generally  reprefent  thofe  Rev/ards  and  Puniihrnents 
as  Cdnfequents  of  th  is  Refuri^cdtioii. 

Tb  thi^  riliihK^there  is  a  full  Anfiver  given  in  tlie. 

lift  Pages  of  a  late  EJfay  towards  the  Proof  of  a  Separate 

State  of  Souh.,  to  which  I  refer  the  Reader.     But  in 

this -Place  T  think  it   fufficient' to  fay,  thafthe  Soul 

only  is  tht  Moral  Jgent,  and  the  God  cf  Nature  cz.h 

effedualiy    rc^-ard    or    punifh    the  Virtues    or    the 

Vides   6f  Man    in  his   immortal   Paft,    or  his  Soul^ 

which   naturaHy  furvives  the  Body  ;    but  the  God  of 

Grace  having  introduced  a  Gofpel  for  the  RecdVeTy  of 

finful  Mankind  froin  Ruin,  whereby  the  Refurre6tIon 

of  thfe  Body  is  promifed  to  thofe  who  comply  with  it^ 

for.an'  Iricreafe  of  Happinefs,  he^thought  it  proper  aT- 

ib  and  juft  that  the  Rejed^ion- of  this  Gofpel,  or  the 

«tter  Impenitence  of  Men,  ihould  be  puni{h'd  with  a 

Aefurreclion  of  the  Body,  for  an  Increafe  of  Mifery. 

Isls  tlie  Gofpel  only  whlch  introduces  the  Refurre£tion 

of  the  Body  ;  the  Original  Law  of  God  knows  no- 

thing  of  it.     As  by  Man,  i.  e.  Adam,  came  in  Death^ 


h  pROSBOffd  VeKSE.         341 

Ja  by  Matty  i.  e.  Chrift,  xame  in  -the  Refurre^ion  of  the 
Dead,  I  Cor.  xv.  21. 

A  N  D  thence  may  I  not  take  occaflon  to  infer,  that 
the  Gofpel  or  the  Covenant  of  Grace,  which  is  found- 
ed  in  the  Undertaking  of  Chrijly  hath  been  fome  way 
or  other  made  known  to  all  Mankind,  at  leaft  by 
fome  obfcure  and  general  Notices  of  it ;  and  that  the 
great  God  doth  aftually  deal  with  all  Men  now  upon 
Terms  of  Grace,  from  thisvery  Argument,  be- 
czMk  all  Mankind  are  to  be  raifed  againfrom  tbe.Dead, 
whohaue  doneGoodor  Evily  John  v.  28.  29.  Whcrea» 
thoie  who  never  fmned  againft  a  Gofpel,  or  againft 
the  Grace  or  Mercy  of  God,  but  only  againft  God  as 
the  God  of  Naturey  would  perhaps  only  he  expofed  to 
fuch  a  Sentence  as  the  Light  of  Nature  raight  find 
out,  or  as  might  ba  executed  accordi?jg  to  the  Courfe  of 
Naturey  without  theMiracle  of  a  Refurre<ftion,  /.  e.  by 
the  Death  of  tlie  Body,  and  tlie  Puniflunent  of  the 
furviving  Spirit  in  a  feparate  State. 

I  F  this  laft  Inference  fhould  be  found  to  run  coun- 
ter  io  the  Senfe  of  any  one  Text  of  Scripture,  I  re- 
nounce  it  upon  the  Spot  :  But  if  by  venturing  to  ftep 
out  of  the  common  Track  of  the  Schools,  we  may 
iind  any  little  Beam  of  Light  ftied  upon  the  Conduft 
of  God  toward  Man,  and  be  thereby  enabled  the  bet- 
ter  to  vindlcate  the  Wifdom  and  Righteoufnefs  of  the 
God  of  Nature  and  the  God  of  Grace  ]  let  not  that 
little  Beam  be  quenched,  merely  becaufe  it  has  not  the 
Support  of  vulgar  Opinion,  nor  been  «onfecrated  by 
Creeds  or  Couacil?, 

Q,  5  LXXVI 


$^%       Mifceltaneous  Theughts, 

.:      .      ..•»<■.;    ;    .UV>vV. 

■  ■  .1  I  1         ■-■ 

■  '•'■      "^   ;i     '■'    '.\      ,-■■■'  «.'< 

LXXVI. 

. . ;    Xhree  M<i^eru  A  b  stj  r  Di i.t  i;E  s^  -. . .  : 

ivr  i  siOiCix-^^A  \\x  i.x\  ?!  if':^':: .:  -Ijo-i  boP  lE»''^ 

OENSE,  Confcioufnefs  and  Rcafon  are<. threexjST 
'  the  chief  Principles  or  Mediums  6f  our  Knbw-? 
ledgeof'Thing?.  This,  I  fuppofe  wiU  beacknow- 
Jedged  by  Men  of  all  Religions,-  and  of  none.  5^«/^ 
infornis  us  chiefly  of  the  Things  that  arc  witl>out  us, 
even  all  that  we  know  by  Sight  or.  PJeariug,  by  Smeil, 
U^fte^  or; Fxehng.  Gonfcioufiiefs.  acquatnts  .\xt  with  a.U 
iha*  pafles  within  us,  and  particulai-ly  the  I Jeas  we. 
"ime^in  our  Mind,  the  Inclinatlon  of  our  Heatts,.  the 
Gonfent,  the.  Choice  or  any  Aftion  6f  our  Wilb; 
hnd.  then  Reafon  affijres  us  of  the.Truth  of  a  Conclu-t 
3ioa-which,^^  evidently  derived  from  other  Propcjfitions 
•vahicfi  \sie..know  to  be.  true  before.  Now-the^  Df^j, 
^^Q^P.apijh-^  and  the  Fatalijii  anjdng  them  dp  really  re- 
ADunce  all  thefe;,they  run  on-blindly  and  refolutely 
in.;  tKei-rv  Opinions,  and  maintain  fevcral  Articlesof 
tiieir.  own  Belief,  in  direft  Contradiclion  to  thefe 
three.  Principles  of  Knowledge,  how  mi;ch.  foe\'er 
th&y  may  profefe  to  he  led  by  thenn. 

'^^  ;T^he  P^Hais^^T^ii^Jth^t^  m'alT  tlie  \^^. 
jftauces  o'f  common  Life  he  believes  the  Didates  of-hfs" 


Sen/fs\  about.TKings '.  -whrch  arc'  neat  tb  inrai,  'and 
.wiiicll>be  hath  all  pfoper.  Advan^ges  toexafnin?. ; '  b»ut 
i<i.the  Bufjncf^  o^"  Tirinilibpsuiiathn  Ixe  be^s  .yovir  Ex- 
cufe,  for  hc-.beiifev€s.a  Piece  of  Bread  to  be  real  Flefh 
^d  Blood,.  and;  gives  the.  Lye  groflyuah'd.«bftinately 
to  his  Eye-fight  and  his  Fcelmg,  his  Smell  and  hra 
Tafte-atonce,  a^nd.hi&^eligioa  requires  himiwcon-* 
Uadiclall  his.^Senfcs.^n:;  jnr  t  asd  br  . 

-a     .  ;.    ;.i..    ,,■.     ..    ■;.    ;r,::      .     r.   .'  ■■   .   .  y.    ^ '■     .'.-]  . 

'-  Craiifeyy^  Sa-;  Man  .  of  tWs  Fx^ofeiBon,  believes  the 
fiefurrcftion- or.  the  Body  of  C^J7/i  from  the  Dcad, 
ajid  confeflcs  that  it  could  not  !>e  known  nor  proved 
witliout  giving  Credit  to  our  Senfes,  our  Seeing  and 
Eeelingi  and  yet  he.rcnounces  jtheDielatesTof  thefe 
Senfes  utterly,  when  theytell  him  that  the  Bread  of 
the,  Sacrament  is.  net  tJie  Body  of  tlie  rifen  5a\iour  ! 
And  fhus  he-chufes  to  dvcrthro\y  the  Foundation  on 
which  he  believes  the  Do<5trine  of  the  Refurrecllon  of 
Cbrijl,  (which  Doctrine  is  tlie  Foundation  of  all  his 
Ckrijliar.ity)  rather  tlian  beheve  what  his  Senfes  tcU 
Jiim,  wheh  tfiey  afture  him  the  Body  of  Ckrijl  is  not 
a  Wafer-Caice.  .i;A^onftrous  Victory  and  Dominion 
of  tiie  Church  of  Rdme  over  all  the  Powers  of  Senfe 
ai>d  Re^foiilat  orjce,  and  the,  \Gxy  Principles  of  qv.s 
Faith  ! 

I N  the  next  Placa  Uylander,  a  young  FatcUJ}^  will 
acknowledge  in  general,  that  tho'  he  cannot  afient  to 
\ixy  of  the  Religions  of  Men,  nor  b^lieve  aVVorJ^of 
Yflm  thfypreach  aboutVicc  and  Viitue,  a  Hcavenand 

a.  Hc!l, 


3  44       Mtfcellaneous  ThoughtT^ 

a  Hell,  yti  he  believes  what  he  himfdffieh^  and  what 
he  vi  confcious  of  vixx^c^wi  himfelf.  But  if  you  ask  him 
prefently,  Wliether  Man  be  a  free  Creature  ?  Whe- 
cher  he  himfelf  hath  a  Liberty  of  Choice  in  any  Mo- 
tion  of  his  Will,  or  in  any  Adtion  of  his  Life  ?  he 
denies  it.  No  ;  he  is  neceflarily  moved  by  a  Train  of 
other  Caufes  to  every  particular  Volition  and  A(Elion, 
and  has  not,  nor  ever  had  any  free  Choice.  Aslt 
him,  Whether  he  is  not  confcious  in  himfelf,  that  he 
can  walk  or  ftand  ftill,  rife  or  fit,  move  his  Finger  to 
the  North  or  to  the  South  ?  No,  he  can  do  none  of 
thefe  i  he  is  but  a  mere  Machine,  a6led  by  certain  in- 
vifible  Springs  j  that  when  two  Things  are  ofFered 
him,  he  cannot  chufe  or  refufe  this  or  that,  but  is  ne- 
ceflarily  impelJ'd  to  every  thing  that  he  thinks,  or 
wills,  or  a£ts.  *  Enquire  of  him  yet  further,  when 
he  ihuns  the  Church,  when  he  dwells  at  the  Tavern 
till  Midnight,  when  he  feeks  out  the  Partners  of  his 
Vices,  and  purfues  forbidden  Pleafures,  whether  he 
does  not  feel  his  own  Self,  or  his  own  inward  Powers, 
chuling  and  afting  all  this  with  Freedom  ?  He  will 
own  that  'he  feems  to  chufe  and  a<£t  thefe  Things,  but 
ftill  perfifts  in  diredt  Contradi6i:ion  to  his  own  Feeiing 
and  Confcioufnefs,  that  '«is  God  ads  all  this  in  him 
and  by  him  ;  and  while  he  feels  himfef  fo  wilful  and 
vile  a  Criminal,  blafphemes  the  Bkjed  God^  and  makes 
him  the  Autlwr  of  all  his  Crimes, 

•  See  the  trueMbertf  cfChoice  exphined  and proved  in  a 
iate  Eflay  on  the  Frceddm  of  Will  in  God  and  Man. 

CON- 


m  pRG^E  ^z;/^Ve. RSE.       345" 

C  o  N  T  R  A  R  Y  to  all  the  Di^ates  of  his  Confci- 
cnce,  he  affirms  there  is  no  Virtue  or  Vice,  no  fuch 
Things  as  good  or  evil  Aclions  in  a  moral  Senfe  ;  and 
eonfequently  that  G"^^  hath  provided  iio  Heaven  cr 
Hs^ll,  no  Rewards  or  Punifhments  for  aay  thing  which 
is  done  by  us  in  tliis  Life  ;  for  whatfoever  we  fecm  to 
do,  it  is  all  really  efFe£ted  by  the  Will  of  God  putting 
the  Train  of  Caufes  in-  Motion  at  firft,  and  none 
of  us  could  e\ er  acl  othefwife  than  v.e  do :  And 
yct  after  all  this  mecha,nical  Acccamt  of  themfdves, 
and  tiys  Denial  oj  all  Freedom,  thef?-  Men  cf 
Matter  end  Motion  ha\-e  the  Impudence,  in  oppo-: 
fition  to  conimon  Senfe,  Reafon  and  Grammar,  to 
abufe  Language  fo  far  as  to  call  themfelves  /)w- 
Thinkcrs.  Strange  and  prodigious  !  that  Men  fbould 
deny  what  they  feel  continually  in  themfelves,  and 
^v.hat  they  praitice.ten  times  in  aithour,  toigratify.a 
HumoHr,  and  fupport  a  mofl:  abfurd  Opinion,,  wjjici^ 
takes  away  all  Virtue,  Order  and  Peace  from  this 
WiorlUy  and  all.Hope  and  Happinefs  frora  the  ne:!^t !  , 

'■''"Tke  T^CTVi  Sort  df  Men  of  this  odd  Gbmpofitlon, 
iiVe  thd  DdJIs.  ^Jp/fui  profeffes  he  is  a  Friend  tb  Reafm 
ahove  all  Things,'  afhdhe  is  led  by  nothin|  fo  riiugh  as 
"k^afln\  \&\i-'^^]^-aJ^tth2.X  he  belleyWfhereis  a  God 
\vh'o  rriade,  and  Who  governs  all  Yhings,.'that  he  is 
bound  to  horiouf  thikGbd,  arid  obey  his  Will ;  that 
he  mufl  make  it  iiis  Bufinefs  to  love  God  and  hiii. 
Neighbour  ;  that  tl^.ere  is  an  etcrnal  Diffcrcncc  be- 
tAveen-  Vicel  arid  Virtue>.; .  thst  cMan  w  an  intelUgcnt 
aed.  free  Agenti 'Riid  \>j.R6afm>\k\%  cojiivlnced  ;that 

Uiere 


34^        Mifcellaneous  Thoughts^ 

there  are  Rewards  and  Punifhments  provided  for  Man 
in  a  future  State,  according  to  his  Behaviour  here.  He^ 
believes  alfo  by  the  Force  of  Reafon^  according  to  an- 
cient  Hiftory,  and  thc  fecure  Conveyance  of  it  by 
Writing,  that  there  was  fuch  a  Man  as  yefui  Chrifly  ac 
well  as  he  believes  there  was  fuch  a  Man  as  Juliui  ^ 
Cafar^  and  as  he  confefles  this  funm  was  a  RDman 
and  a  General,  and  fought  many  Battels,  he  cannot 
but  confefs  by  the  fame  Reafonings,  that  this  Jefus 
lived  in  Judea  and  Galilee  j  that  he  was  the  Son  of  » 
Carpenter,  and  that  he  taught  many  excellent  Rules- 
about  Vice  and  Virtue,  and  the  Love  of  God  and  our 
Neighbour  ;  and  by  the  fame  Exercife  of  his  Reafon 
on  the  Hiftorical  Account  of  the  FaiSls  of  paft  Ages^ 
he  is  perfuaded  that  there  were  feveral  Mcn  of  mean 
Education  and  Circumftances  who  follow'd  tbis  Jfuiy 
*nd  without  the  help  of  Arms  or  Bribery,  carried 
his  Do<Slrine  afterward  through  the  World,  And  yet 
contrary  to  all  Reafon  this  very  Apifus  believes,  that 
this  obfcure  young  Man  Jetu:  of  Nazarethy  this  Son 
cf  a  Country  Carpenter,  who  was  brought  up  to  his 
Father's  Trade,  gave  a  better  Sett  of  Rules  for  the 
Honour  of  God,  for  the  Love  of  our  Neighbour,  and 
the  Conduit  of  our  Lives,  than  evcr  any  Philofopher 
did  in  Greece  or  Rome^  and  that  he  did  all  this  without 
human  Literature,  without  any  divine  Afliftancej 
without  any  Infpiration  from  God. 

H  E  believes  farther,  contrary  to   all  Reafon,  that 
his  poor  Carpenter  had  Art  and  Cunning  cnough  to 

ici- 


i«  Prose  <?«^  Verse.       347 

impofe  felfe  Miracles  on  Thoufands  of  People  in 
Judea  and  GaBlee,  and  even  in  Jerufakm  itfelf  j  that 
he  made  them  believe  that  he  cured  the  BHnd,  that  he 
gave  Hearing  to  the  Deaf,  and  Feet  to  the  Lame, 
that  he  hcard  all  manner  of  Difeafes,  by  his  Word  or 
his  Touch,  and  raifed  feveral  v/ho  were  dead  to  Life 
again,  virithout  doing  one  real  Miracle,  or  having  any 
cxtraordinary  Power  given  him  by  God. 

He  believes  yet  farther  ftill,  and  in  Oppofition 
to  all  the  Principles  of  true  Reafoning,  that  the  Dif- 
■ciples  of  this  Jefm,  poor  illiterate  Creatures  and 
Fifhermen  as  they  were,  except  one  Paul,  who  was  a 
Scholar ;  I  fay,  he  believes  that  thefe  Men  went 
about  the  World,  and  perfuaded  Mankind  to  believe 
that  this  Jefus  Chrijl  arofe  from  the  Dead  after  he  had 
been  crucify'd  and  buried  fome  Days,  and  made  Mul- 
titudes  of  his  own  Countrymen  and  Strangers,  Rich 
and  Poor,  wife  Men  and  Philofophers,  and  whole 
Countries  believe  it,  tho'  there  was  not  a  Syllable  of 
Truth  in  it,  fays  he,  nor  was  it  poflible  that  it  ftiould 
be  true.  He  believes  yet  again,  that  thefe  fiUy  Men 
were  fcmetimes  Cheats  and  Impoflors,  who  pra<Slifed 
the  greateft  Subtiltles  and  Artifice  to  deceive  the 
World,  that  fometimes  they  were  wild  Enthufiafls^  and 
half  raad  with  Devotion,  tho'  Reafon  might  aflure 
him  that  Impofiure  ?.nd  Enthufiafm  cannot  long  refide 
together  in  the  fame  Breaft,  but  one  will  betray  or  de- 
ftroy  the  other. 


He 


3  4  §        MlfeellaneoHs  Thoughp, 

H  E  bditves  on  ftill  that  thefe  Impoftors  or  Enthu* 
fiafts  (be  they  what  they'  will)  engaged  Mankirt<3 
to  receive  all  the  Do(2:rines  of  this  Jejui  and  his 
Rehgion,  by  their  Tricks  of  Art,  or  their  Foole- 
ries  of  honeft  Zeal, '  beyond  what  any  of  the  witeft 
Men  of  the  World  with  all  tlieir  Skill  ^d  Learn- 
rag  coitld  ever  iio  in  the  hke  Cafeii  irtd  .went  oji  iiic- 
cefsfuUy  to  pjbpagate  his'  Doctrinej.and  foretold  it 
/hould  ftand  and  continue  to  the  World's  End, 
withput  any  "  extraordinar}''  Commiilion  froin  Hea- 
ven,  or  Prefcnc^  of  God  with  therii.  Ke  believed 
alio  very  unrearonably,  that  fuch  ji  Baad  pf  Knavesy 
To  lie  Xuppofes  fhera  genfrally.t^  be,  carried 'on  thia 
Jmpoilure'  with  fuch  Unaniiiiity  and  Faiihfulnerg 
i.or  many  'Years,  e\'en  tp  tlic;  End  of  their  Lives, 
that  notanyone  of  ^them  ever  difcovered  the  Cheat, 
tho'  tiiey  could  expecl  to  get  nothing  by  it  herc 
jn  this  World  but  Poyerty,  Shajne,  Perfecution, 
jmprlfonments,  Stripes,  and  a  bloody  DeatJi ;:  and 
in  thc  other  "^Vorjd  the  Wratli  of  God  for  fuch 
Knavcrv. 

H I  s  Belief  gocs  furrhcr  yet,  contrary  to  all 
reafonable  Grpunds,  for  he  believes  tliefe  Foliowers 
9? .  this  'j^fiu  Chrifi^  by  mere  falfe  Pretences  to 
iMiracles  and  Gifts  of  Tongues,  fpread  his  Reh- 
gion  through  tlie  Nations,  tho'  he  knows  that 
fhey  appealed  in  a  publick  manner  to  whok 
Societles  of  Men  concernlng  the  Truth  of  thefc 
Gifts   conferr'd    upon    themfelves   and   other    Chri- 

ftians. 


iu  Prose  and  Verse.       349 

ftians,  anJ  concerning  this  Power  of  Miracles 
which  dilplayM  itfelf  with  fuch  Evidence  and  Glory, 
particularly  in  Corinth^  where  St.  Paul  muft  have  bccn 
conflited  with  Shame,  and  utterly  confounded,  if  thefc 
'J^hings  had  not  bcen  true,  becaufe  that  was  a  City  of 
great  Learning  and  Knowkdge  ;  and  yet  Apijhis  cb- 
ftinately  believes  ftill  that  neither  thefe  Men,  nor 
Pcul  himfelf,  nor  any  of  their  Followers  ever  wrought 
one  real  Miracle,  nor  fpoke  one  Tongue  but  \\  hat 
they  learnt  before  in  the  common  Way  :  And  that 
thcy  fpread  this  Religion  fo  widely  among  the  Na- 
tions,  and  fo  effl-ctually,  -without  any  Commif- 
fion  or  Help  from  God,  tho'  this  Religion  contain'd 
in  it  Doctrines  contrary  to  the  Faftiion?  and  Cuftoms 
of  the  World,  to  the  Idolatrous  Religions  of  tbe  Na- 
t'ons,  to  the  vicious  Inclinations  of  Mankind  and 
their  corrupt  Appctites  and  Paflions ;  and  tho'  he  cannot 
but  fee  evidently  that  thefe  ]\len  and  their  Succeflbrs 
in  this  Opinion  have  turned  many  Thoufands  of  Pcr- 
fons  to  more  Virtue  and  Piety  than  all  the  Philofo- 
pb.ers  couid  do  v.'ith  all  their  Lcarning,  yet  he  believcs 
rtill  that  thefe  Men  had  no  divine  Power  attending 
tiicm,  nor  any  AfTiftance  from  Heavcn.  In  fiiort, 
he  believes  contrary  to  all  Reafon  thefe  Things,. 
which  ?.rc  far  harder  to  bcjieve  than  any  of  the 
}\'culiar  Articles  of  the  Chnjlian  Faith  ;  and  \et 
Apijlus  pretcnds  liC  cannoC  believe  tliofe  ArticiC.^, 
lccaufe   thcy  do   not   carry   Rcafon   wlth   thcm. 

R  I\I  V 


3jo     M'ifielkneotis7hotights,  &:c. 

M  Y  God,  deliver  me  from  the  blinduig  and 
ftupifying  Prejudices  of  thefe  Three  Sorts  of  Men, 
Avho  contradi^t  the  plainefi:  Evidences  of  Truth,  and 
to  maintain  their  abfurd  Pecuharities,  renounce  the 
chief  Springsofall  our  Knowledge  j  and  let  me  be  led 
lioneftly  and  fmcerely  by  thefe  Faculties  of  Senfation 
aud  Confcioufnefs  which  thou  haft  given  me,  in 
Conjundlion  and  Harmony  v;ith  each  other,  and 
under  the  Guard  and  Improvement  of  Right  Reafon  . 
The  Exercife  of  thefe  Powers  under  thy  holy  In- 
fluence  will  efFeduaJly  brmg  me  to  Faith  in  the  Gof- 
pel  of  my  blefled  Saviour,  and  in  Compliance  with 
the  Rules  of  that  Gofpel  I  truft  I  fhall  find  eternal 
Life.     Jmen. 


The  ENT>. 


B  0  0  K  S 


BOOK  Spiblifljedby  the  fame  Anthor: 

I.  T  10  R  /E  Lyrica  :  Poems  chiefly  of  the  Lyric 
■^^  kind.  In  threc  Book  ;  Sacred,  i.  To  De- 
votion  and  Piety.  2.  To  Virtue,  Honour  and 
Friendfhip.  3.  To  the  Memory  of  ,the  Dead.  The 
Sixth  Edition,  corrected  ;  with  the  Author's  Effigies. 

II.  Hymns  md  Spirltml  Songs,  in  three  Books. 
I.  Colle(Stcd  from  the  Scriptures.  2.  Compofed  on 
divine  Subjecls.  3.  Prepai^d  for  the  Lord's  Supper. 
The  Eleverith  Edition. 

III.  J  Guide  to  Prcyer  :  Or,  A  free,  and  rational 
Account  of  the  Gift,  Grace,  and  Spirit  of  Pra}er  ; 
with  plain  Direflions  how^  every  Chriftian  may  at- 
tain  them.     The  Fifth  Edition. 

IV.  Divine  Songs^  attempted  in  eafy  Language  for 
the  Ufe  of  Children.     The  Eleventh  Edition. 

V.  The  Pfalms  ofDavid,  imitated  in  the  Language 
of  the  Nevi^  Teftament,  and  applied  to  tJie  Ch-ifiian 
State  of  Worfhip.  The  Eighth  and  Ninth  Editions^  with 
or  without  the  Preface  and  Notes. 

VI.  Sermom  on  various  Subjects.,  Divine  and  Moral, 
in  two  Volumes  ;  with  a  facred  Hymn  annexed  to 
each  Subje<3:.     The  Fifth  Edition. 

VII.  Logick  :  Or,  The  Right  Ufeof  Reafon  in  the 
Enquiry  after  Truth  ;  with  a  Variety  of  Rules  to 
guard  againft  Error,  in  the  Affairs  of  Religion  and 
Human  Life,  as  well  as  in  the  Sciences.  The  Fifth 
Ed''tion,  correded. 

VIII.  The  Knovoledge  of  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth 
made  eafy  :  Or,  The  firlt  Principles  oi  J/lronomy  znA. 
Gcography  ;  with  the  Ufe  of  Globes  and  Maps.  The 
Secoud  Edition. 

IX.  ^  Defence  againfi  the  Temptation  of  Sef-Mur- 
tkr,    Wherein  the  crimmal  Nature  and  Guilt  of  it 

are 


^OOKS  publijled  by  the  fame  Author. 

are  o'irp]ay'd.  Together  with  fome  Reflcclions  on 
ExceH)  in  ftrong  Liqaors,  Duelling,  and  other  Piac- 
tices  akin  to  this  hcinous  Sin. 

X.  The  Art  of  Reading  and  Writing  EngUJh^  or 
tl:ie  chief  Principles  and  Rules  of  pronouncing  our 
Mother-Tongue,  both  in  Profe  and  Verfe  ;  with  a 
\^ariety  of  Initrudtlons  fbr  true  Spelling.  The  Fcurth 
Edition. 

XI.  Pray.rs  compcfc\if:r  ihe  Uji  of  Children,  fuited  to 
thcir  difiei-ent  Ages  ani  their  various  Occafions,  toge- 
ther  \''x\\  Inftrivftions  to  Ycutii  in  the  Duty  of  Praver; 
drawn  up  by  W  ay  of  Qaefli on  and  Anfwer,  and  a  fe- 
rious  Addrefs  to  them  on  that  Subje6t.  The  pMrth 
Editi:n. 

XII.  Aii  Efjaj  towards  the  Encouragement  of  Charity- 
Schooh. 

XIII.  The  Dofrrine  cf  the  Paffions  Explain^d  atvi  hn- 
prov'd  :  Or  a  brief  and  comprehenfive  Scheme  of  the 
natural  Aftcctions  of  Mankind,  attempted  in  a  plain 
and  eafv'  ivlechod  ;  with  an  Account  of  their  Namc>, 
Nature,  Ap^^-^earances,  EfFects,  and  different  Ufes  in 
Hum^n  Lite  :  To  which  are  fubioin'd,  moral  and 
diviiie  Rules  for  the  Regulation  or  Government  of 
them.     The  Second  Edition,  correcle^. 

Nozv  in  the  Prefsy  by  thtfame  Aitthor. 
PhVofophical  Ejjays  cn  varisus  Subjccls^  viz,  Space, 
Subftancc,  Body,  Spirit,  the  Operations  of  the  Soul 
in  Union  with  the  Body,  inniite  Ideas,  peqietual  Con- 
fcioafnefs,  Piace  and  Motion  of  Spirits,  the  Departing 
Soul,  the  RefurrecTtion  of  the  Body,  the  ProJudion 
and  Operation  of  Piants  and  Animals  ;  v/ith  fome  Rc- 
marks  on  Mr.  Li?r.^'s  Eftay  on  the  Human  Underftand- 
ing.  To  vvhich  is  fubjoin'd,  a  bricf  Scheme  of  Onto- 
logy  ;  br,  the  Science  of  Being  in  gencral,  wich  its 
Aff;ctions. ''  The  Secsnd  EditioK, 

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